2015
by Kattella07
Summary: Elliot never chose to leave Olivia and SVU behind. He wakes up in 2015 after four years in a coma, and is shocked by the changes that have occurred in his world. Will he have a place in this new reality? And how did he wind up in a coma, anyway? Sometimes, the choices are taken out of our hands, and we have to fight to make our lives whole again.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing SVU-related except my own feelings.**

2015.

Every time he heard that year it was like a slap in the face. How could it be 2015 when there had been no 2014, 2013, 2012, and only pieces of 2011? He forced himself to believe it. Somehow, while he had been at a standstill, the world had kept spinning around him.

Elliot hated everything about it.

The worst part was that nobody knew. How could they, when the hospital had found no I.D., and had had no one to contact? He had disappeared from their lives. Everybody–Kathy, the kids, his whole squad, _Olivia–_ what must they think of him now? They would probably hate him. They would probably think that they meant so little to him, he could simply leave without a word. Nothing could be farther from the truth. He had to find them, explain, and make things right again.

Watching the city rush around him, Elliot found it hard to believe that so much time had passed. It was the same street, the same sky. And there, like an old friend, was his favorite library. It wasn't the largest in the city, but it had the most Hemingway novels he had found yet. Seeking the comfortable familiarity, he found himself wandering inside. But he felt himself stop. Something was wrong, this–this wasn't his library. Yet it was on the same street. The red brick walls were the same as always, and it still smelled like hot coffee. But that was where the similarities ended. Everything had been rearranged; the first floor fiction section had turned into a cookbook display, the red plush carpet was now a dark hardwood, and he didn't recognize any of the librarians. It was just a library, he knew, but it was like a punch in the gut, and he fought hard to control the panic struggling inside him.

"Excuse me," he chased breathlessly after a librarian. "Miss!"

She turned around. Another stranger.

"When did these renovations take place?"

The woman looked at him confusedly. "I'm sorry, Sir. I really don't know, I only started work here last year. You could ask Brian? He's our senior librarian."

Elliot quickly reassured her that it was fine. _It's just a library,_ he thought. _Get it together. Lots of things will have changed by now._

Shaking his head, he wandered over to a computer terminal, wondering absentmindedly what had happened in the news since 2011. _Hopefully not any wars._ He tried a news site, but quickly lost interest and searched for what was really on his mind, _Detective Olivia Benson._

The large number of headlines from 2013 and 2012 struck him as odd, and he looked closer at the screen.

 _"Serial Rapist William Lewis Escapes From Prison"_

 _"NYPD Detective Survives Second Abduction"_

 _"Detective Olivia Benson Admits to Police Brutality"_

Elliot stopped breathing. This wasn't possible, there must be some kind of mistake. But as he clicked on stories, he just found more and more impossible details, things he wished he could un-know the second he read them. _Serial rapist. Sadist, torture, cigarette burns, force-feeds victims alcohol and drugs._ Elliot stood up suddenly, staring at the computer as his world fell apart again. He struggled to breathe, to halt the images taking over his mind. Elliot knew about sadists and rapists, and the psychological torture they inflicted on their victims. Of all people, Elliot knew what victims went through. But this was _Olivia._

Twice. She had been abducted _twice._

And where had he been? He had been _asleep._

"Gah!" He yelled into the library silence, kicking over his chair. The librarian from earlier approached him, _Sir, we need you to leave._ He kicked the chair again blindly, and then held up his hands. "Alright, alright." He was back on the street, practically blind with pain and rage.

He didn't know how long he wandered around the streets until his legs buckled under him, just that the sun had set, plunging the city into shadows. He dragged himself to an alley wall and slumped against it, exhausted. It had taken weeks of physical therapy before he had been strong enough to walk out of the hospital. As he felt his legs give out, he thought again how pathetic he was, and all he could feel was the pain of knowing.

"Oh God," he choked out, not caring who heard him. "Olivia."

He had to see her. He knew he wasn't thinking straight, but in that moment, nothing was as important as Olivia. He had gone too long without her, and he needed to see her. Then he remembered that he was stranded, with no way of getting around the city, not even his own legs.

Summoning the last of his strength, Elliot found a payphone. He only had one quarter, rescued from a filthy gutter he had practically fallen into. He thought about calling Olivia, but…It wouldn't be right, after all this, asking _her_ to rescue _him_. He thought of the people he would have called four years ago. That was when he remembered Kathy–but somehow he couldn't bring himself to care as much as he should. Choosing Cragen, he prayed that the number was the same and dialed, watching his precious quarter disappear with apprehension.

"Hello?"

"Cap," he exhaled, relief overwhelming him. "Cap, it's Elliot."

"Elliot! Where the hell have you been?"

"I–" He stumbled over his words. "I was in a coma."

There was silence. "A coma," Cragen repeated.

"Uhh…yeah. Listen, cap–"

"How exactly did you wind up in a coma?"

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "When I woke up they told me that they had just found me on the side of the road. No I.D., a big gash in my head. Somebody probably mugged me and left me for dead."

There was a pause. "Jesus, Elliot. After you quit, we all thought you had just taken off. Olivia was…"

"I know, Cap." He pleaded. "Wait a second. Did you just say that I quit?"

"Uh, yeah, Stabler. You handed in your papers a few days after I.A.B. started investigating Jenna's shooting."

Elliot grasped his hair in his hands, trying to make sense of it all. Maybe he had lost some memory. "I guess I just don't remember."

"Well, that's probably to be expected with brain injuries."

"Any chance I could come back? I mean, I know its been four years, and it'll take a while for me to get back in tip-top shape, but…"

"El, you're asking the wrong person. I retired a couple years ago."

Damn _._ Elliot closed his eyes in despair. "Oh," he said. "So, who do I ask? Munch?"

"Elliot, Munch is retired too."

"Well, dammit, Cap! Is Fin gone, too? Does Olivia even still work there after–after Lewis?"

"So you know."

"Damn right I know! She–" his voice broke. "How can I ever–" He closed his eyes, resting his head against the phone wearily.

"I don't know. But you owe it to yourself to try, Stabler. Don't make her wait any longer."

Elliot imagined her angry. Imagined her slapping him in the face, screaming at him for abandoning her without so much as a goodbye. He would deserve every bit of it. "Yeah. Look, Cap. I'm actually calling you because I'm kind of stranded. I used my last quarter to call you, I don't have any cash–"

"I'll come pick you up, you can stay with me and Eileen until you figure things out. Where are you?"

Elliot told him, briefly wondering who Eileen was, and waited for his old boss to come pick him up. He felt stronger knowing that he would see Olivia tomorrow. They had both waited long enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**You guys are so nice! Thank you for your support, I will try to be a regular updater on here :)**

 **To answer a reviewer's question, it won't happen in this chapter, but I promise Olivia will show up soon!**

 **Review for a virtual cookie! Flavor of your choice!**

 **Disclaimer: SVU owns me, not the other way around.**

Elliot watched Cragen pull up in his black Camry, the bright white street lights bouncing off of it in a hypnotic fashion. He staggered to his feet as his old boss slid out of the car and made his way over.

"Captain," he grinned tiredly. It was Cragen, all right, but he was older, with less hair and more fine lines around his eyes. Elliot could tell that he was worried, but there was something different about him. Something more peaceful.

"Elliot!" Don clapped him on the back, nearly knocking him over. "Woah there," he steadied him. "You look like you need to lie down."

He laughed shortly, a sound tinged with bitterness. "I think I've had enough rest for one lifetime, but thanks." He felt his screaming muscles relax as he sank into the front seat, and closed his eyes angrily. He hated having his body fail him, but pushed it out of his mind, determined to lighten the mood. "So, Cap, who's Eileen?"

Don chuckled, and Elliot watched, baffled, as his old boss' serious face was transformed by a dopey grin. "She's my wife," he announced, starting up the car. Elliot could even hear the smile in his voice.

"Your wife! Jeez, Don, I have been gone a long time." He shook his head in amazement. "Tell me about her."

"Well, actually…Nobody knows we're married yet, so I'd appreciate it if you could keep it to yourself. A few months ago we went on a world cruise, and we were docked in Bali…It was just so beautiful there. I guess you could say we were inspired."

"Wow, Cap, I'm really happy for you." He was. Cragen hadn't had an easy life, and it looked like he was finally getting his happy ending. "You deserve this, you know."

"Thanks, Elliot. I really hit the jackpot this time." His smile faded as he remembered their circumstances. "So tell me again, you really don't remember quitting?"

"No," he shook his head vehemently. "And I remember everything like it was yesterday. Going home after the shooting, after Jenna. I know that I was upset, but I also know leaving SVU never crossed my mind. And then…"

"And then what?"

He chewed his lip, sighing. "Kathy and I finally went through with the divorce."

He saw Don deflate. "I'm sorry El. You two always seemed like a permanent fixture."

"Yeah, well, it was a long time coming. The thing I just can't seem to wrap my head around is how I wound up the way I did. I mean, I must have been mugged, but what was I doing in Brooklyn? And Muggers don't normally kill their victims, Don, but that's exactly what they tried to do to me."

"Do you think that somebody wanted you dead?" Elliot glanced sharply at Cragen. "We are detectives, Elliot. Sometimes…crimes aren't random."

He sighed, shaking his head slowly. "I don't know. God knows I've made more than enough enemies over the years." As he turned it over in his mind, he became aware of a familiar feeling of heated obsession. He wouldn't be able to turn off until he had made sense of it. It was what made him such a good detective; he just couldn't let go.

"Okay, hypothetically speaking, let's just imagine here that it wasn't me who put in my papers–who would want me gone that much? Who would go to all that trouble?"

"It's not just your papers, El." Cragen interjected. "There's also the badge."

"What badge?"

"Semper Fi?" he prompted, face quickly turning to horror. "Oh, no. That wasn't you?"

"What wasn't me?" Now he was starting to panic.

"A few weeks after you quit, you– _somebody_ –sent Olivia your badge, with a note that said 'Semper Fi." You even signed it. We all just assumed it was your half-assed way of saying goodbye."

Elliot stared at Cragen, dragging a hand nervously through his hair as he put together something very important. "Captain–captain, _that wasn't me_. No–listen, it _couldn't_ have been, because I saw my check-in date at the hospital. They found me the day after the shooting. "

"Elliot, are you sure?"

"You bet your ass, I'm sure!" Another thought struck him, stealing the air from his lungs. "I couldn't have quit, either, based on that timeline. Captain– _somebody wants me dead_." The realization was maddening. Who could have done this to him? Who could have stolen years of his life and hurt everybody he cared about? Unless… "Captain. Could it be–could it have been Lewis?"

The car jerked to a stop in front of an old apartment complex, and Cragen sighed. "That's not really his style, but if it is, your worries are over." Elliot looked at him questioningly. "Lewis is dead," he announced with a sigh.

"He's–dead?"

"Killed himself, while he had Liv. Tried to make it look like she had done it; she nearly lost her badge."

"That son of a–" Elliot had wanted to kill Lewis himself. Slowly. But the bastard had cheated death and left on his own terms. He must have known, he must have known it was over, and used his last act to incriminate Olivia.

"Elliot," he said urgently. "If this is true, we need to keep you hidden. Somebody thinks that they killed you, and if it stays that way, you're safe." Cragen stared directly at him, seeming to steel himself, and the dreaded question came. "Now, what exactly are you planning on saying to Liv?"

He blinked, tears stinging his eyes, and brushed them away angrily. "I don't know, Cap. What can I say? 'Hey, Liv, I was in a coma for the past four years. Did you miss me? Sorry for not calling you. Sorry for not being there when you were fucking abducted. _Twice.'"_ He scrunched up his eyes to keep tears from falling out as his heart twisted painfully. "It's not okay. It'll never be okay. What she went through..."

Cragen nodded a little, and put a hand on his arm. "It broke all of our hearts. But if it makes you feel any better, she never stopped caring about you."

Elliot laughed; a short, hysterical sound. "I never deserved her."

"None of us did," he responded simply. "But all we can do is try, right? Now, do you want me to call her? I can tell her what happened before you go see her. It might make things easier…"

Don's face was pained and honest. There would have been nothing Elliot liked more than to say yes, to make it all easy, but… "It doesn't really seem fair. When I think about how furious I would have been if the roles were reversed….Don't you think she deserves the chance to yell at me? Slap me around, if it makes her feel better?"

"It's not your fault you were in a coma, Elliot."

"I know, but…" His voice trailed off tiredly. He didn't really have a response. He just felt like he deserved to get yelled at, and Olivia should be the one to do it.

"I'll respect your wishes, Elliot. I am going to say one thing, though. There is somebody to blame here–but it's not you. Somebody is trying to ruin your life, and if you want to beat them, you'd better stop trying to make things any harder than they need to be."

Elliot hesitated, miserable, but deep down he knew Cragen was right. He already had enough of the world against him, he didn't need to add himself to his list of enemies. "Alright, Cap," he sighed, resigned. "If it's not too much trouble…Maybe you could make that call."

"It would be my pleasure," he agreed grimly. "Now come on in, I want you to meet Eileen."

 **Next time…Elliot meets 2015 Olivia. What will happen? Follow to find out!**

 **Thanks for reading :) . Remember to review, I love reading your opinions!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello again, lovely people. It's the moment you've all been waiting for...I hope you like it :)**

 **Thanks to my dear friend, Magnificent Oak Tree, for your assistance in this matter.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing. As usual. *sighs***

 **...**

Cragen opened the door to a stately older woman with black hair and an easy smile.

"You must be Eileen," Elliot greeted her, holding out a hand. They shook as Cragen introduced them.

"Eileen, this is Elliot."

Her face lit up in recognition. "Your old detective!"

"That's right."

"Wow, guess I'm pretty famous around here, Cap."

"We did work together for 15 years, Elliot."

"So," Eileen studied him, hands on her hips. "Where exactly have you been for the past four years?"

He hesitated, but Cragen put a hand on his shoulder. "Elliot was attacked. He's been in a coma until a few weeks ago."

She looked as if she had been slapped. "You poor boy. All this time, and nobody knew?"

He smiled sadly at her, slightly amused that he was calling a 49 year old like himself a boy. "Yup."

Eileen made a distressed noise and waved her hands dismissively. "It's no matter now. Come in, come in, are you hungry? I just made pancakes and bacon…" Elliot was feeling rather flustered as he was dragged into the kitchen, but it didn't take him long to realize how hungry he was. Four years of I.V. nutrition had really done a number on him. Real food felt like a blessing.

"Eileen," he mumbled through a big mouthful of pancakes. "Don is a lucky man."

She laughed lightly, and a pang went through his heart. _Olivia._ He didn't think a day would go by when this didn't tear him up, and he could only imagine how much worse it was for her. He swallowed, blinking tears away again.

"Cap," his voice was breaking, and he was worried that he wouldn't be able to explain himself, but Cragen just nodded.

"I got it, El. I'll do it right now, if you want."

He took a shaky breath, eyes burning as he studied at Cragen's cell phone. He wondered how many times Olivia had tried to call him, what the bastards who had taken his phone must have thought. Elliot was ready to take back what was his. "Do it."

Elliot watched as Cragen dialed, hardly daring to breathe.

"Olivia!" He exclaimed. "Yeah, we did get back, it was incredible. Listen…"

He was starting to panic, and stuffed more pancakes in his mouth, trying desperately to calm down.

"Mmhmm. Okay."

Cragen hung up, and looked at Elliot apprehensively. "She's coming now," he said flatly.

Elliot could have sworn his heart stopped. He choked on his pancakes, eyes watering. "Damn," he whispered. "Damn it. What am I going to say?" He had been counting on having some time to prepare himself, to think of something to say that could make up for four years of silence. _But if it had been me, I wouldn't have waited another moment either._ He allowed himself to hope that maybe it was a good sign.

He couldn't stop pacing, wringing his hands. What would she be like? Would she think about forgiving him? Would she–he jumped at the doorbell, and looked at it like a deer in the headlights. Don walked past him, and rested his hand on his shoulder for a moment.

"You'll be alright, El." But even he could see that Don was nervous, too.

The door opened, and Elliot's world stopped. There she was. Undeniably Olivia. It was a million little details about her that made him want to fall apart. The way light seemed to shoot through her glossy dark hair. The bronze glow of her skin, the fierceness in her brown gaze. She was older, but not just with smile lines. Elliot felt himself crumble as he recognized the ghosts of old screams etched into her face, felt himself melt away as she walked up to him with a rush of familiar coffee scent. Being so close to her made his heart ache. Olivia was still Olivia, but like everything else, she was different. He didn't know what it was, he couldn't stop staring into the intense brown of her eyes to try to figure it out. Finally, she spoke, and her voice was strange with pain.

"I thought you left me."

He had wanted to stay stoic. She deserved more than him falling apart on her. But that one sentence, the halting way she spoke, as if he were a stranger… he twisted his face, unsuccessfully trying to keep the hot tears from betraying him. How could anyone have done this to them? She was his _partner_.

"Olivia," came his strangled voice. "I could never leave you. I–" _I need you just to breathe._ "You're my partner." He closed his eyes for a moment, trying not to blame himself for what somebody else had done. "This is all my fault," he blurted. "I should have been there, Liv. I should have been there when you needed me, not _asleep._ " He practically spat the word. "I would have murdered him–"

"I almost did," she said suddenly, glancing self-consciously at Cragen. He took the hint and walked out.

Elliot blinked. "What?"

She dragged a hand through her hair, sinking onto a lonely chair. "When he had me the first time. I got the upper hand, and I–I guess I didn't know what to do." She laughed, a little, ridiculous laugh. "I kept asking myself what you do. And I knew, of course I knew."

She paused, a far-off look in her eye that terrified him. "I was so close." There was an undercurrent to her words that made him wonder exactly what she meant by that.

"Why didn't you?" He whispered, scarcely able to believe that they were talking about it. Then again, they had never been much for empty words.

Olivia turned to look at him, with a crooked smile and cold eyes. "I thought I did."

 _Damn._ Now it was his turn to sit down.

"So you see," she continued. "It was really my fault. If I had just followed through, made sure, it wouldn't have happened again. I didn't do my job."

"It wasn't your job to kill him," Elliot protested.

"Four new victims." Her lip was trembling, eyes ragged with unshed tears. He just wanted to take her into his arms, to make the pain stop. He had never seen her so haunted, not even after Sealview. "That's what came of my hesitation. You wouldn't have hesitated, El. You would have just stopped it." With startling abruptness, she stood and stared back at him with wild eyes. "Who would have done this, Elliot? Who could have done this to us?"

Just like that, they had become _us_ , and Elliot had become _El._ It was like coming home. Everything else had changed, but he allowed himself to hope that maybe he and Olivia could survive the eroding of time.

He shook his head, realizing that an answer was needed. "I thought it might have been Lewis." There was a tiny flinch, almost imperceptible, but he saw it and immediately cursed himself for being so thoughtless. "But Cragen told me he was dead."

"What about Victor Tate?"

Now it was his turn to flinch. The innocent man he had sentenced to life in prison. "Maybe. But I doubt it...He's a good man. Stuck to his guns all this time, why screw up now?"

She nodded a little, thinking. "Maybe Ray Schenkel?"  
"Jesus. I don't know, I guess he could have contacted somebody from prison."

"Gordon Rickett?

He laughed a little, shaking his head. "I'm not exactly popular, am I?"

A smile flickered over her face. "You're not going to win Prom King, if that's what you're asking."

"Thank God," he smirked. "Once was enough."

For a moment she stared at him, incredulous, until she burst out laughing. It wasn't exactly his proudest moment, but he would tell her every one of his most embarrassing secrets if it meant keeping her smiling. "You're not serious?"

"Unfortunately, I am very serious. The cheerleaders loved me."

She pursed her lips, trying not to laugh, but she couldn't help it. "Oh, I would love to see a picture of that."

"Sorry, I burned them."

"Drat," she snapped her fingers. Her smiled faded as the two settled into a painful sort of silence, both remembering the circumstances surrounding their meeting. She sat back down, this time closer, and guilt clawed at his stomach.

"Do you want to punch me or something?" Elliot asked, voice strained. "If it would help, you can beat me up as much as you want."

Her eyes shot up to his, and a smile tugged at her lips. He could just watch her smile all day. "I've really missed you, El," she said softly. "And you're right, I have been angry. But now that I know...You're not the one I want to get for this."

Another silence fell, this one sad, as they thought of everything that had been stolen from them.

Olivia lowered her eyes, studying the carpet as intensely as if it were a crime scene. "Right now, we have to figure out who's trying to kill you. And then you have to call Kathy and see your kids."

"Kathy and I are divorced," he blurted out. Olivia looked like she'd been hit between the eyes, but she was doing a strange thing with her lips that he couldn't quite figure out. Like she was chewing them or something.

"I'm sorry," she offered softly.

"Mm," he responded. "And my kids…God, they must think I abandoned them. I've been gone for four years." He gave a deep, shuddering sigh. "Eli is 8, Liv. Kathy is 25 _._ How can I face that? My children have grown up. I don't know them anymore."

She put a strong hand on his, giving him a moment of sympathy. He looked up at the sudden touch, startled. Her voice was soft, holding every drop of compassion she had ever given to a victim, only it was for _him_. "El, your kids need you. They need you to be strong for them. They've gone long enough without their father."

He couldn't stop looking at her. He had done nothing, nothing at all to deserve having her in his life. "You're right," he admitted shakily. "I need to go home."

"Sorry to interrupt, you two, but that might not be the best idea." Elliot started. He hadn't even realized that Don had come back.

"What do you mean?" He frowned. "I'm their father, aren't I?"

"Of course you are, El. But how do you plan on seeing them without making yourself known?"

"I–"

"Captain, you could just invite the Stablers over, couldn't you?" Olivia asked. "Just tell them it's for dinner."

Cragen shook his head. "Look, from this point on, we operate under the assumption that we're being watched. It's not so strange that you should be here, Olivia, although if it is the middle of the night. But the Stablers? After how many years? That would send up about a hundred red flags."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Elliot scoffed. "Just pretend to be dead until I actually am?"

"No, Elliot, Cragen is right." She sighed with the realization, clearly thinking hard. "You have to lie low for a while until we figure this out. Until it's safe. That doesn't mean we can't find a way for you to see your kids, but...You can't just run around like everything is normal."

 _Nothing is normal_ , he remembered dully. He sighed. "Fine. Whatever."

Olivia hesitated, seeming to consider something. "How are you at babysitting?"

He blinked at her, confused. "I've had five kids. I think I can handle myself." Suddenly, he wondered what he was agreeing to. "Why are you asking?"

She regarded him for several long moments. "Do you want to meet my son?"

His mouth fell open. "You have a son?" Was his voice normally that squeaky?

Olivia smiled radiantly. "His name is Noah."

...

 **Ooh, drama. Review for a cookie! Next time...El meets the whole squad. Will he get punched? Follow to find out.**

 **xoxo**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, turns out I lied to you guys. The part about Elliot meeting the squad just doesn't realistically fit into this chapter...Sorry about that! I won't be doing any more sneak previews, because, as it turns out, I am constantly rewriting. I literally have an extra document full of rejected stuff that is twice as long as what I'm using. So. Enough of my rambling! I hope you like this chapter. (Which is also my rambling, but hopefully the kind you actually want to read)**

 **So...Um, thank you for reviewing. I'm completely blown away by the response I'm getting. If I knew you all in real life, I would bake you cookies or something.**

 **Disclaimer: I have no claims. Only disclaims. Don't sue me.**

...

"Noah Benson," he breathed, utterly flabbergasted for a moment, until a smile quickly overtook his face. She was finally a mother.

"It's actually Noah Porter-Benson."

Elliot froze. She didn't mean…He swallowed, mouth dry. "You and Dean Porter, huh?"

Olivia laughed out loud, doing nothing to relieve the horrible tension he was experiencing. "No, El. I haven't seen that asshat in years. I adopted Noah after...Well, it's a long story."

"I've got time," he offered, grinning perhaps too enthusiastically with renewed joy.

She rolled her eyes. "Later. We should get going, or I'll be at work tomorrow on no sleep. I'll call you tomorrow, Cragen."

He nodded at her. "You two get home safe."

"Wait," Elliot started. "I'm staying with you?"

She smirked at him. "Is that okay?"

He chuckled, unable to quit grinning. "Yeah. Yeah, Liv, that's great."

"Come on, then. I hope you like the couch." She threw his jacket at him and strode out the door.

"Bye, Captain," Elliot said quickly before following her. He was struggling to match her pace, legs still wobbly. He never could keep up with her.

"You all right?" Olivia asked, not slowing.

"Never better," he huffed. "Is this your car? The one that hit Clyde back in 2009?"

"It still works, doesn't it?"

"I guess so." What difference did it make if the car had been used to frame her for murder? He made to get in the front seat, but she shook her head.

"What if someone sees you?"

He looked at her, confused. "It's the middle of the night!"

She glared at him, pointing to the backseat. "Keep your head down." He sighed reluctantly and did as she asked; a secret part of him was thrilled to have her bossing him around again. As he sat down, something squeaked under him, and she hid a smile.

"Sorry about the mess."

It was a baby's toy: a squeaky bunny with big flopsy ears. There was a child's car seat, too, complete with a blanket, stuffed monkey, and sippy cup. Suddenly, Elliot found himself imagining soccer mom Olivia. She would drive Noah to school in her minivan, hand out sliced oranges at his games and teach him how to shoot. (Soccer balls.)

"It's fine," he smiled, slouching into the seat as the car took off. "So how old is he?"

"One and a half. The adoption only became official a few weeks ago, actually."

"Feel like telling me that long story now?"

She sighed. "Not really. Do you mind if I turn on the radio?"

He did, but he had no intention of telling her that, and soon the car was flooded with mindless pop. He watched her through the rear view mirror, quickly recognizing the look in her eye. He knew that she was so lost in thought that it would take actual gunshots to bring her back. With a sigh, he leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

A jerk jolted him back to the present. He cursed, realizing that he had fallen asleep. Olivia smirked at him from the mirror.

"Have a good nap?"

Their eyes locked. His threw a good-natured _shut up_ , and hers were brimming with laughter. They had never needed words to talk, he remembered. Entire conversations could hide within glances. It was one of the many reasons he loved her eyes. The color, too, had always fascinated him. Brown was much too mundane a description. They were the color of dark brown sugar, or maybe rich coffee.

As they exited the car, Elliot realized that she had moved in the time he'd been away. This was a new building, and he wondered why she had decided to leave. Inside the apartment, Olivia's hand strayed to her gun, and she checked each room before relaxing.

"Hi, Lucy. How's he doing?"

A young, dark-haired girl who must have been the babysitter walked out into the living room, and smiled tiredly at her. "Hey, Liv. Noah's sleeping like an angel." She eyed Elliot curiously. "Who's this?"

They exchanged a glance. "This is Jordan. He's um...My boyfriend."

Elliot blinked, but recovered himself quickly and stuck out a hand. "Nice to meet you."

Lucy beamed, and shook his hand enthusiastically. "That's great! If you don't need anything else, I'll head out now." She stifled a yawn. "Sorry."

"No, Lucy, go home and sleep. Thanks again for coming so last minute, you're a real life saver."

She smiled, and headed out. "It's no problem, I'll see you tomorrow. Nice meeting you, Jordan." Lucy waved and left, shutting the door carefully behind her. It was just the two of them now.

"I should go check on Noah."

And then it was just him, staring around her new apartment. It apartment looked almost identical to her old one in the dark, except for the baby things adding a second carpet to the floor. As he stood there, he realized he didn't know what to do with himself. He honestly hadn't expected to find Olivia's life so unrecognizable; they had been partners for 12 years, and nothing so big as this had happened. Four years without him, and everything looked different. Was there a connection there?

When she came back, he hadn't moved from his awkward position in the center of the room. He noticed immediately that her face had a different look to it. He had seen hints of it earlier, but now he understood what it was. It was happiness.

"Do you want to sit down?" She offered, a little uncomfortably.

"Oh–yeah. Thanks." Moving some baby things off to the side, he settled onto the far corner of the couch, watching her apprehensively. There was so much between them, so much that lived in the silence. Four years.

Elliot nervously played with his hands, trying to understand how they had become strangers. At last, Olivia spoke.

"This is pretty weird, huh?" She smiled sadly at him.

"Yeah, you could say that."

She sighed. "I have to go to bed, you should try to get some rest, too. There are some blankets here..." Her voice trailed off again. The silence was unbearable.

"Liv," he began hesitantly, afraid to hear the answer. "Are we...are we going to be okay?"

Olivia's eyes found his. "I don't know, El. I just can't seem to get my head around the fact that you're really here, and that there's an explanation that leaves you entirely blameless. A few years ago, I would have killed for that."

"And now?" He was almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Now, I don't know. Why did this have to happen _now_? Why not after I was abducted the first time? I got so used to not having you around that I don't know how to let you back in."

He knew she had changed. Of course he knew that. But it was so strange to see, to really see that she had lived four years that he hadn't. It felt to him that no time had passed since Jenna's shooting, but here was proof right in front of him. Olivia had learned to live without him, and he didn't know if he could do the same. He didn't want to find out what he would be without her.

"Please," he heard himself say. "Can you try?"

She was nodding thoughtfully, and turned her head to look at him. His heart was screaming, begging for her to say yes. It took all of his strength not to fall apart in that awful moment, but he held himself together. Finally, she answered. "I care too much not to."

He couldn't stop a single tear from escaping as their eyes met in the dark. The distance between them–he could cross it in a heartbeat. What would she do if he were to kiss her right now? He swallowed, looking down as he cursed his treacherous heart. That would be the most selfish thing he could possibly do. He wouldn't confuse her like that, not when there was so much unsaid. The choice had to be hers. For now, it would be enough to know that she cared.

"Thank you," he said, voice a promise.

She shook her head. "Get some sleep, El." She left, and he thought how much colder it was without her by his side. If she cared about him even half as much as he cared about her, these past four years must have been unimaginably lonely.

Elliot fell asleep thinking about time. It was all he ever thought about anymore.

...

 **Thanks for reading. I've got some...interesting...things planned for you all. See you next time ;)**

 **xoxo**


	5. Chapter 5

**Do you remember that episode in season 7 where Bobbly Flay just randomly showed up? Haha.**

 **Sometimes people recommend songs to go with their fic. So, if you feel like it, read this normally and then with Gangnam Style in the background. It's a very different experience. (Someday I might come up with an actual soundtrack for this, but today is not that day.)**

 **Disclaim Disclaim Disclaim**

 **...**

Somebody was shaking him.

"El," came the voice. "El!" Suddenly, his eyes flew open, cheek stinging powerfully. Olivia had just slapped him. Fear lit a fire in her eyes.

"I guess I deserved that," he muttered.

"Sorry, I thought…" She shook her head as if clearing a nightmare. "I'm really sorry, El. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Don't worry about it, it doesn't even hurt."

She looked at him skeptically, and he laughed. "Okay, yeah, age definitely hasn't taken the sting out of your slap, Benson. You're still a badass detective who can kick anyone's ass. I don't mind, though. There are worse ways to wake up."

Her mouth twisted as she suppressed a smile. "Actually, I'm sergeant now. But that's good to know, Stabler."

"You're sergeant?" It was impossible for him to imagine her as anything other than the detective that she was.

"Somebody had to do it, and I actually get to help the victims more this way. So, um, about Noah..."

"I can watch him," he offered immediately. "I mean...if that's okay with you."

Olivia let out a breath, watching him for a moment. "You don't randomly fall over or anything, do you? No weird coma side-effects?"

Elliot was so relieved he almost laughed. He had thought that she didn't trust him with her child. "No, Liv. It's fine. I'm not exactly a heavyweight anymore, but I can watch a baby."

"Alright," she smiled nervously. "I'll go get him."

When she appeared again in the doorway with her baby, Elliot could hardly believe how perfect they looked together. Early morning sunshine turned them both to gold, a sight that immediately took his breath away. Noah was nestled sleepily in the warmth of her arms, a yawn stretching his mouth open wide. He looked so content, as if he knew instinctively that he was in the best place in the world. His mother was looking at him like he was the most important person in the world, and it was in that moment the best thing Elliot had ever seen. She rested her forehead on his, and whispered to him like he was telling him the secrets of the universe.

"Noah, this is Mommy's friend, Elliot. He's going to take care of you today." She dragged her eyes away from Noah and back to Elliot. It was an electric shock–there was a new light in her eyes, an unbelievable love and warmth that mingled deliciously with excitement. He had never seen her so happy, and it made his heart swell with joy. He never wanted her to stop looking like that.

He got to his feet as if in a trance and walked over to Noah, hardly daring to believe that somebody so perfect was real. As Olivia transferred his weight into his arms, he marveled at his warmth, at the incredible softness of his hair, and looked up at her in amazement. Gaze turning back down at Noah, he realized something that made his smile hurt his face.

"I know this is weird to say, but he has your eyes."

She blinked at him, startled, but her face quickly turned pink with pleasure. "It's not weird." Shaking her head as if to clear it, she started rattling off a long list of things he had to know to take care of him. When he heard about his asthma, Elliot had to swallow his anger and keep smiling. Children should be protected and loved. He had always been a Catholic, but he could never understand why God would burden someone so innocent with a disease that made it a struggle just to breathe. Elliot vowed to himself that he, at least, would do everything he could to keep Noah safe and happy.

"I won't let you down, Liv. Noah and I are going to have a great time."

"Alright," she threw Noah one last anxious glance and grabbed her purse. "I'll see you tonight, then."

And she was gone.

Noah immediately started crying, and Elliot rocked him gently in his arms. "Shh, shh. It's okay, little man. Mommy will be back soon. Are you hungry? Do you want breakfast?" He settled him carefully in his high chair before searching the refrigerator for food. Noah was old enough to be eating some grown-up foods, but Elliot had no idea what he liked. Eventually, he decided to make pancakes. Eileen's had been so good that they were all he wanted to eat, plus Olivia actually had the right ingredients.  
"Do you like pancakes, Noah?" He asked in a silly voice as he started stirring the batter together. He was rewarded with a giggle, and chuckled right alongside him. Something about this already felt so _normal_. "I like pancakes. Your mommy does, too. They're the only thing she knows how to cook!" Noah clapped his hands together. "That's alright, though. We love her anyways, don't we, Noah?"

"Pancakes," Noah said very seriously before collapsing into giggles. Elliot couldn't resist reaching over to kiss the top of his head. He had just met this kid, and he already loved him. It wasn't just everything he gave to Olivia–Noah found laughter in everything, and that was a rare and precious thing. He was so glad that Olivia had someone so special in her life.

"You are a very important little man, you know?" Noah made a farting noise with his mouth, and Elliot laughed out loud. "Excuse you."

The day passed by with an easy gaiety. They spent hours talking and reading, and by naptime, Elliot felt like they were well on their way to becoming the best of friends. Noah had fallen asleep on his lap, clutching his hand with the massive strength of babies.

"You're gonna be a real tough guy someday, aren't you, Noah?" Elliot whispered. "But you're so sweet, nobody will have a clue."

He found himself thinking again about his own children, and tears pricked at his eyes. How could he have missed so much? He had never gotten to help Eli with his homework, or teach him to ride a bike. Kathleen was probably done with school, Maureen might even be married. And Dickie must already be in the military–he might not even be alive. And Lizzie, little Lizzie–Jesus, she was 22. 22! This was all too much. And even now, now that he was awake, he couldn't do anything to make up for the lost time. Fiery anger rose inside of him, threatening to consume him in the most familiar way, but he felt himself calm as he remembered the precious bundle on his lap. Cooling grief washed away his rage and left only pain behind. He just missed them so much.

When Olivia came home, she greeted Noah with a kiss and examined Elliot anxiously for a moment before snatching up random toys from the floor and shoving them into cupboards.

"Um," Elliot started. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine! Can you help me?"

"What exactly are you cleaning for?" He started picking things up, too.

"I may have...invited our entire precinct over in half an hour."

"Oh," his stomach did a backflip. "Great."

As they cleaned, Elliot got the feeling that the mess wasn't really what was making her so nervous.

"Um...Liv?"

"Hm?"

"Do they know about me?"

One glimpse of her expression and it was clear. They didn't have a clue.

"I didn't know how to talk about it without tipping anyone off," she offered apologetically. "I couldn't get everyone alone. This was a bad idea, I–"

The doorbell rang, causing him to jump. He and Olivia shared an anxious look, and she went to the door, picking up Noah on her way. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, realizing with a pang that they were the same clothes he had had on since he left the hospital. He felt like he was going to puke. What was wrong with him? He had never, not once in his life, experienced social anxiety. So what was this? _Get yourself together, Stabler. They're just people._

He heard Olivia greeting them, and the apartment was soon crowded with unfamiliar faces, every one of them openly sizing him up. He found himself wishing for the comforting presence of Noah in his arms, but he was with Olivia. Captain Cragen waved to him, and Munch stopped dead in his tracks. When his eyes found Fin's, he saw his old coworker falter, and then stared at him like he was already dead. 'If looks could kill' had never felt so relevant, and Elliot began backing away nervously.

"It looks great in here," A blonde woman drawled.

"Mother _fucker_ –" Suddenly, he was flat on his ass, face exploding with pain.

"Fin!" Olivia shouted. "Stop!" Cragen pulled him off, and held him back as he shouted at him.

"God damn you, Stabler! Do you have any idea what you put us through? What you put Liv through? Fucking bastard–"

"Fin," Olivia insisted, gritting her teeth. "Watch it with the language."

He glanced at Noah, who was staring wide-eyed, and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Liv. But seriously, Elliot, what is your–freakin'–problem? You think you can just waltz back in here like nothing's changed? Well get this, idiot, everything has changed."

 _You don't need to tell me that._

"Fin," Olivia interjected as everyone stared at him. "Elliot just woke up from a coma. Which he has been in for four years. We think that somebody targeted him, sent in his papers, and tried to kill him. Get rid of him."

Fin looked back and forth between the two of them, as if trying to figure out if they were joking. Eventually, he shook his head. "Damn. God damn. That is seriously messed up...I guess I shouldn't have punched you, huh, Stabler?"

Elliot shrugged, pinching his nose gingerly. "Somebody had to."

"Wait a second," an unfamiliar man with slicked back hair interjected as he got to his feet. "Sarge, is this is your old partner?"  
Elliot worked hard not to roll his eyes. _Clearly a brilliant detective._ He swore he saw Liv give the tiniest shake of her head, hiding a laugh at the look on his face.

"Yes," she said, turning to address the whole room with Noah in her arms. "Obviously it wasn't my best idea to spring this on you guys without a warning, but we think we're being watched. This is Elliot Stabler." She took a nervous breath. "He needs our help."

A dark haired man looked troubled, but the blonde woman quickly offered him her hand, which he took gratefully.

"I'm Amanda Rollins," she said. "That guy," she gestured to the brilliant detective. "Is our new detective, Carisi. That broody guy over there is Nick Amaro, and this is Barba, our A.D.A."

He nodded to a man in an expensive suit, who was eyeing him dangerously. His gaze then turned nervously to Munch, who was regarding him from afar with a thoughtful hand on his chin. He didn't know what he would do if Munch couldn't forgive him, or at least try to understand.

Elliot jumped at a sudden shout. "I _told_ you guys something had happened to him!" He laughed maniacally, seizing his hand and pumping it up and down with almost violent enthusiasm. "I _knew_ you wouldn't just walk out on us, Stabler." He clapped him on the back, making him sway on his feet. Elliot felt so relieved that he mirrored Munch's goofy grin.

"Yeah, Munchie, but you said that aliens had abducted him, not that he had wound up in a coma," Fin laughed. "It is good to have you back, Stabler. Sorry for punching you, I guess you have enough brain injuries without my help."

Elliot nodded, smirking a little. "It wouldn't have been a real reunion if nobody got punched."

There was a bit of laughter, and a bit of the tension in the room seemed to evaporate.

"So…" Amanda rolled the word around. "Tell us what we need to know."

 **Thanks for reading, everyone. Leave a review if you like! They always make me smile :)**

 **xoxo**


	6. Chapter 6

**11 Days till Season 17! Whoo!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

As Olivia told his story to the squad over Chinese food, Elliot became aware that everybody in the room was staring at him much like you might stare at a ghost. It was clear that they knew who he was, and were trying to reconcile what they had heard with what was sitting in front of them eating Lo Mein. He found himself starting back openly at the people who had filled his precinct in his absence. Nick Amaro and Barba met his eyes with obvious, carefully controlled anger that he knew instinctively concerned Olivia. One word, and they would destroy him. It was a brutal reminder; he wasn't her partner anymore, he was the bastard who had left her. He tried to feel glad that she had people in her life who had been there for her, people who would protect her, but the realization stung more than anything else.

He realized that Olivia had stopped talking, and a deafening silence had fallen. They were all staring openly, now, and he met Olivia's eyes with a little alarm. He couldn't stand to have all these eyes on him; it made him want to run out the door. She was about to say something more to fill the emptiness when Nick Amaro broke the spell.

"So let's just take this like a normal case," he started. "Off the books, of course. We'll go back to the crime scene, look for old witnesses. The usual."

As he spoke, Elliot felt everyone in the room agree with him. Somehow, they had reached a wordless consensus.

"Alright," Olivia said, relieved. "And you're all up for this?"

"Of course we are, Liv," Amanda said as everyone nodded. "I think that our first priority should be to interview the hospital staff. Nick, you want to take that?"

Elliot felt weak with relief. He had been out of his element for so long. But if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was solve crimes.

"Sure," Amaro said. "Barba, it might help to have a suit around."

"I'll be there," he promised.

"Liv, somebody had better talk to Kathy," Fin said. "You want me to come with you?"

She hesitated. "Yeah, Fin. Some backup would be great, thanks."

"Okay."

"Hey, wait, I want in on this." Munch interjected. "Retirement can wait, Elliot needs us.

"Same here," Cragen said as Elliot smiled gratefully. "Where do you need us, Liv?"

She smiled at them. "How about you check out the crime scene? El, do you know where it is?"

Remembering the crumpled piece of paper in his jacket, he handed it to them. "I asked when I got out. Figured it might come in handy."

Cragen nodded. "We'll take it first thing tomorrow."

"Thanks, guys," Elliot said sincerely. "Really."

"Okay," Olivia said. "It seems like we have a solid plan…"

"Wait, Sarge, what about me?" Carisi looked confused. "I mean, I know I don't exactly know you, Elliot, but I still want to help."

"Oh," Olivia said. "Um…"

"Maybe you could bring me my old files?" Elliot offered. "I know it's not the most exciting job in the world, but I need to start thinking about the people I've put away."

"Yeah," he lit up. "I'm on it. And if you want some help, somebody to bounce ideas off of..."

"Uh, I'll let you know."

"I'll show them to you tomorrow, Carisi." Olivia looked around at her team with a bit of hope in her gaze. "I think that we're going to get some answers," she said thoughtfully. "I have my theories, but...It'll be good to fill in some more blanks. Thank you guys."

"Yeah," Elliot said suddenly, meeting all of their eyes. "I know that you're not doing this for me. At least, most of you aren't. But...thank you."

They nodded a little in response. "Sure," Amaro said to fill the silence.

"Okay," Olivia said, a smile playing on her lips. "Is that everything?"

"We should see his scar," Barba said abruptly. "Show it to Warner. Maybe she could tell what kind of knife it was."

Everybody was nodding in agreement. Elliot put a hand to the back of his head uncomfortably; he could feel the strangeness of the scarred skin on his skull, and thought for a moment that he remembered something. There was burning pain and blackness, but the memory was so strange that he was sure it must have been something he had dreamed.

"I wish she was here," Olivia said. "Her dog, Petey, got sick and she had to take him to the vet."

"Tomorrow," Barba promised, eyes not leaving Elliot. There was something about this guy...Elliot's good mood had vanished in an instant. Barba was really pissing Elliot off.

"Nice suspenders," Elliot offered with a smirk, knowing full well that he was being childish. Barba's quick grin made it seem like he had just been invited to a fabulous party instead of insulted.

"Thanks," He replied immediately. "Liv said the same thing today. I think they're really working for me."

Elliot narrowed his eyes, knowing he had dropped the nickname intentionally. He didn't want this guy to call her Liv.

"I also think we should be considering anyone involved in the Jenna Fox case. The timing feels too...deliberate." Elliot looked back at Barba, shaken. Why did he know about Jenna? The man was shorter than he was, but there was something dangerous about him. Elliot got the feeling he wasn't the kind of man you wanted for an enemy. He also knew that he hated him.

"We've had plenty of tough cases," he pushed back, unsettled.

"Plenty of tough cases that culminated in a shootout in your precinct?" Barba looked at him with obvious contempt for his intelligence. How stupid are you? His gaze seemed to say. "I didn't think so."

"Listen, I don't know who you think you are–" They were both standing up now, face to face.

"I'm the guy who was here when you weren't. But then again, so is Amaro, and Fin, and–"

"That's enough," Elliot growled. He didn't know what would have happened next if Noah hadn't started crying. Olivia got up, patting him on the back with glares for both of them.

"I'm going to put Noah to bed now. And if either of you even think about waking him up–" She finished her threat with a deadly glare and swept out of the room.

"Get it together, guys," Carisi said. "We're all on the same side here."

"You weren't here," Barba said, shaking his head with quiet venom. "You don't know."

"You think–you think I wouldn't have crawled over broken glass through Hell to be by her side?" He whispered. "You piece of shit. She was my partner for 12 years." He had to stop, his voice was shaking too violently.

Barba met his eyes. "But not when it counted."

He swallowed slowly, suddenly measuring the distance between them in the seconds it would take to cross it. He was itching to hit this hateful little man, to smash the conceit right off of his face. Breathe, insisted a quiet voice. Liv would never forgive you. He tore his eyes from Barba's with difficulty and breathed, the blood draining from his face. He sat down, feeling weak.

"Elliot's here now," Cragen said firmly, eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them. "And he wouldn't be if Liv didn't want him here. So you two are going to get along, not because you can stand each other, but for her sake. Think you can handle that?"

They exchanged a glance, and he knew that neither of them could forget the others' crimes.

"I guess."

"Yeah." Barba agreed, eyes hostile. "Whatever she needs."

"So, Elliot," Munch intervened, changing the subject. "You thinking about coming back on as a detective?"

He blinked, startled. He didn't know if Olivia would even want him on. "I–"

Olivia reappeared, yawning.

"We should go," Amaro said quickly. "It's getting late, and we have a lot to do tomorrow."

"Yeah," Amanda and Carisi said at the same time. They looked at each other, caught between annoyance and amusement. "We'll see you tomorrow," she said, shaking her head confusedly.

"Okay," she said. "Thank you guys again for your help. I have a feeling that by this time tomorrow, we'll be a whole lot less clueless."

"I hope so," Barba said, grabbing his coat and putting a hand on her arm briefly, making meaningful eye contact. "I'll see you tomorrow, Liv."

She smiled at him with tired eyes, and nodded. "Bye, Rafi." Rafi? That sounded like a monkey. Elliot watched him leave after Amaro and Rollins, who each gave her a kind word and a promise of help on their way out.

"Well." Munch said, clapping a hand on his arm. "I'm glad you're alive, Elliot. SVU wasn't the same without you."

"Thanks, John," he smiled gratefully. Fin left right after him, and nodded a troubled goodbye to him.

"I'll get you those files," Carisi promised. "Can I bring them over tomorrow, Sarge?"

"Sure, Carisi. Maybe lunchtime would be best."

"All right," he agreed, grinning. "Great meeting you, Stabler. By the way, you can call me Sonny, everybody else does." Elliot blinked, trying not to smile. Not one person here had called him 'Sonny.'

"Okay," he said. "Bye...Sonny."

And finally, it was just the two of them. Elliot couldn't help but laugh. Sonny? He mouthed. She shook her head, and leaned back against the door, hiding a smile. They lapsed into a new sort of silence; there were still a million things left unsaid, but they were getting more comfortable around each other, and he was glad.

"So…" He said. "That's your new squad, huh?"

"Yep," she said, pushing herself off of the door and cleaning up the leftovers. He went to help her.

"Which one...Who was your new partner?"

She regarded him for a moment before answering. "Nick."

"Oh," he said. He wasn't sure how to feel about that. "He seems like a good guy."

"He is." A smile played on her lips. "Of course, I did hate him at first."

"What?" He was startled; his cheeks were growing warmer and he didn't know why.

Olivia looked at him like he was an absolute idiot. "He wasn't you." He opened his mouth, and then closed it. "Of course, once I gave him a chance, he turned out to be a great partner." She carried a pile of trash into the kitchen, lingering there for a moment. "He's moving to San Diego in a few weeks."

"Really," he said. "Why?" He couldn't imagine why anyone would want to leave New York.

"Lots of reasons…" She said mysteriously. "Now do you want to tell me what was going on between you and Barba?"

"Don't you mean Rafi?" He chewed on a smile.

Olivia narrowed her eyes a fraction. "Rafael is one of my best friends, Elliot. I trust him." He shook his head a little. I don't. "El," she said. "What is it that you hate so much about him? It can't just be his suspenders."

"They don't help," he said laughingly. She didn't smile. "All right, Liv. You want to know what it is with him? He acts...He acts like he owns you." So it wasn't the whole truth.

She laughed out loud. "And you don't?"

"I–" He stopped, memory betraying him. "I just care about you, that's all."

"So does he," she insisted earnestly. "And if you could stop and think about that, you'd realize that you're both on the same side."

He shook his head, and looked at her. "I'll try." But it was more than that. Barba had thrown his absence in his face. The pain he had caused her. You weren't here. You don't know. He was consumed again by thoughts of her abduction. "Liv–" He said, voice breaking. She looked up at him with her big brown eyes, and he studied her desperately. She was standing in front of him, so very real, and he just couldn't connect that with everything that he had heard. He needed answers. He needed to know what had happened to her.

"What, Elliot? What is it?"

He took a shaky breath, insides tearing apart. He couldn't. He couldn't ask her to relive that just to satisfy his morbid curiosity. "I just...I hope we figure this out soon," he blurted. "I miss my kids. And daylight."

Olivia smiled at him sympathetically. "I know how hard waiting is. But starting tomorrow, you won't be doing nothing. We should get some real answers." Her voice cut off in a yawn.

"You should go to bed," he said immediately. "I can finish cleaning up."

"Mm," she nodded. "Thanks. Goodnight, El."

"Night."

He watched her close the door behind her, and put the rest of the food away, finally left alone with his thoughts. He promised himself that he wouldn't ask Olivia about what had happened–he would let her tell him whenever, if ever, she wanted to. He just hoped that someday she would.

Exhausted after a long day, he sunk onto the couch, watching the moonlight cast strange shadows on the ceiling. He wondered what they would find in the investigation tomorrow. What would Kathy say? It struck him that her life had gained four years, too, and it might look very different now. He hoped she was doing well. Sleep finally caught up with him, and he was dragged under into a strange, drowning slumber. He dreamed that he was in a coma again, and spent the whole night struggling to wake up.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I really don't want to keep writing this, so can we just assume that all my previous disclaimers extend to the rest of the story? Don't sue me :-)**

 **Side note: There has been some confusion regarding Amaro and Barba's...less than friendly...reaction to Elliot. If you are among the confused, here is my explanation: They don't know him. They don't trust him. So they won't believe him about where he's been until they see proof. Which is why Barba asked to see the scar...Hope that makes sense.**

 **...**

Sleep had changed for Elliot since his coma.

It was a strange and terrifying state of semi-awareness. He remembered just enough to torture himself: that he had been in a coma, and that four years had disappeared in the blink of an eye. When he was sleeping, he didn't know if it was happening again, and his worst nightmare was that he had a terrible disease that knocked him out for years at a time. He dreamed that he woke up again in the hospital, and six more years had passed him by. Lewis was alive, and he had abducted Olivia again. Then he was back in a coma, and the next time, Olivia had been found murdered, and Noah was in foster care. He wanted to take care of him, but he was asleep again. Then his own kids didn't remember who he was; and then they remembered, and they hated him for leaving them. He was back in his coma, and the government had become corrupted and decided that rape wasn't a crime, disbanding the Special Victims' Unit. Somehow his dreams mixed with the Planet of the Apes, and the United States had fallen, starting with New York. He was back in the war as an old man, and the earth was exploding around him. His entire life was gone, just like that.

Elliot's eyes shot open, heart racing. What year was it? He pushed to his feet and raced to the door, trying to find some sort of newspaper. City lights shone in his eyes, and he slowly remembered where he was. Olivia's apartment. 2015. It had all been a dream. Elliot felt weak with terror; he was shaking violently, and drenched in cold sweat. His whole life had happened so quickly, the blink of an eye. The horror of his nightmares had shaken him, but that wasn't the worst of it. He understood now that time was an illusion, and that the only thing holding him in place was his fragile consciousness. It was a terrifying realization.

"Fuck," he whispered, clenching his fists as exhausted tears pricked at his eyes. He couldn't sleep anymore. He started pacing, feet light on the carpet, and measured his breathing, trying to instill a sense of calm in himself.

It didn't work. He pushed himself to keep going and watched as the blue night lightened by several shades, desperately wishing for morning. The night was suffocating, and he couldn't stand being alone in his own head.

"How long have you been up?"

He whirled around, heart hammering painfully in his chest. Olivia was in the kitchen, wearing a robe and a concerned frown.

"Not long," he said breathlessly, knowing it wasn't exactly true. "I didn't wake you up, did I?" His anxiety caught up with him and he found himself pacing again, needing to stay ahead of it. Ignoring the protests from his twisting muscles, it occurred to him with some amusement that maybe this was how he would get back in shape. By pacing all night long.

"No." She walked over to him, and caught him by the arm to stop his pacing. He tried to walk off again, and she put her hands on his shoulders to hold him in place. "Why are you pacing?"

"Am I?" He tried to laugh it off. "Just excited for the big day, I guess." The four walls were starting to close in on him. He couldn't leave. Just like the hospital, he couldn't leave. Elliot broke out of her hold and continued, weakened legs wobbling under him.

"Elliot," he turned around, not stopping. "El, what's going on?"

He hesitated, seeing the look on her face. He rubbed his eyes. "I just can't sleep anymore, that's all."

A few moments passed. "Alright," she said simply, sitting down on the couch and watching him. "Do you want to sit?"

He turned around, eyes wild with a primal fear, and softened a little at the sight of her. Her lips were pursed in concern, and a few strands of hair had fallen over her eyes. His hand itched to tuck them behind her ear, but he sat down, tempering his need.

He could still see the sleep in her eyes. "I'm sorry," he said. "This isn't fair, you're not the one who should be taking care of me after–" He stopped, cursing himself. How could he be so tactless?

"After Lewis? Elliot, I'm not the only person here who has gone through something horrible. What you lost–four years. And all the changes that come with that...I can't imagine."

He looked at her, and felt like he should have known. It would never occur to her to put herself first. Empathy was as much a part of her as the sun in the sky. And even though it didn't feel entirely right to lean on her now, he couldn't help but feel a deep gratitude for her compassion. He didn't want to admit it, but a part of him really needed her warmth right now. "Thanks, Liv...I just...I don't know how to get used to everything being so different. I feel like time is running away from me, I can't keep up."

Elliot looked down at a touch, and saw her hand on his. He felt shock; had they ever held hands before? Hers was strong and soft at the same time; callused, but gentle enough to melt his heart. She gave him a smile, and he found himself continuing without make a conscious decision to speak.

"What if I fall asleep again?" He whispered, staring out the window as he remembered the doctor telling him what year it was. "So much has changed. What if the next time I wake up, my whole life is gone?"

"El," she said with quiet passion. "I'll still be here. If it happens again, I'll know. I'll check the hospitals, I'll find you. And even if I'm 90 by the next time we talk, you'll still have a place in my life. I promise that you always will. We're partners, remember?" He blinked at her, trying to control the shaking in his hand. He tightened his grip on hers. "But," she continued softly. "There's no reason to think that that's going to happen. Do you have a doctor's appointment coming up?"

"Yeah," he said. "Two weeks."

"Why don't you see if you can move it up? I'm sure that they'll be able to tell you if you're in any danger. At least, any medical danger."

Why hadn't he thought of that? "Yeah. You're right, Liv. I'll do that first thing."

"Do you…" She hesitated. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Suddenly, he felt weak with relief. "You don't mind? I don't want to drag you..."

"Don't be ridiculous." She smiled, squeezing his hand. "You might need my kidney or something."

He looked over at her warmly, and chuckled quietly. He had missed her so much. They sat together, hand in hand, as the sun came up and the sky brightened into the warmest blue imaginable. The need for sleep was weighing heavily upon him, but he wasn't ready to try again. He could sense her getting ready to leave; her work day would be starting soon, and he tried not to cling to her hand with the desperation he was feeling. Eventually, she stood and stretched, letting go of him.

"I'd better get to work."

He nodded dumbly as she went to get dressed and check on Noah.

"Carisi's coming over at lunchtime, and I'll talk to Melinda about when she can make it." He could feel that there was more that she wanted to say, and he hoped that maybe she was starting to want to let him in again. "I know we have a lot to talk about, but...I'll see you tonight."

"Stay safe," he said as she opened the door. She nodded grimly and left, locking the door behind her. Exhaustion hit him like a truck, and he tried lying down on the couch again, blinking his dry eyes tiredly. Fear was still a living thing inside of him, but being with Olivia had provided him with just enough makeshift peace to doze off. He blinked his dry eyes slowly as sleep claimed him.

 **...**

 **So...I have finally come up with some songs that I think work for EO.**

 **Have you ever heard Untouchable by Taylor Swift? It's from the Fearless era. Some sample lyrics for you: "Untouchable, burning brighter than the sun/And when you're close I feel like coming undone."**

 **Also, Missing Venus by Cynthia Catania. "Tell me what's on your mind, time/All that's come between us." And "We keep missing Venus," which is meant to imply the Roman goddess of love. But it only works for certain less happy parts of their relationship.**

 **Your reviews make me smile, thanks for reading :) . Leave a review if you like.**

 **xoxo**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello, lovelies. I have a nice long chapter for you today...Hope you like it!**

 **7 DAYS UNTIL SEASON 17! I will be keeping this story in line with the current season...I hear Olivia becomes lieutenant. It does seem unlikely that Elliot will show up, so let's just imagine that he's living in Olivia's apartment and they're keeping it a secret :)**

 **...**

Someone was crying. _Noah._ The world came rushing back to Elliot as he hauled himself to his feet, panicked. How long had he left Noah alone? He hobbled over to his room, wincing at a the lingering pain in his legs and back. Noah was standing in his crib, and tears were running down his face but his eyes were still mussed with sleep.

"I'm sorry, Noah," he sighed, picking him up. "I don't know what got into me. Are you hungry?"

"Pancakes," he insisted, drying his tears. Noah clung to Elliot, and he apologized again and again for leaving him alone as he went to make breakfast. He hadn't had any intention of sleeping, but the momentary peace that Olivia had given him must have coupled with his exhaustion and knocked him out. The few hours had been blessedly empty of dreams or fear; a relief from his own mind that had left him refreshed and invigorated. He was ready to start his day.

After his third meal of pancakes in only two days, Elliot and Noah settled down to play with some of his toys on the living room floor. He put on the radio as Noah crashed toy trucks into the floor, and found himself enjoying the current music. In a weird way, he was like a time traveler. He had simply skipped four years, and was now living in the future. It was a strange feeling, and listening to the top ten, it became a novel one as well.

"If only I could travel back in time," he muttered, sitting down beside Noah and tickling his belly.

"Pancakes," he giggled, a gleam in his eye. It was becoming his favorite joke.

Elliot nodded sagely, stroking an imaginary beard. "You are a wise toddler."

He was rewarded with a gale of happy laughter from Noah, and the next few hours passed easily as they played together. Around lunchtime, Carisi dropped off his old files, along with some extra clothes: standard issue N.Y.P.D. shirts and sweats.

"I thought you might need some extras," he offered nervously. "Seeing as you didn't exactly get the chance to pack."

"Wow," Elliot was taken aback by his thoughtfulness. "Thanks, Sonny. I appreciate it."

"Anytime," he said, a little relieved. "I've got to get back, but give me a call if you need anything." He handed him his card, ruffling Noah's hair as he headed out..

Elliot couldn't help but notice that the only member of S.V.U. who was being genuinely nice to him was also the only one who hadn't been there for Lewis. Shoving aside his mounting fears, he opened the first of many boxes, sneezing from the dust. _Four years worth of dust,_ he thought, before getting irritated with himself. Enough with the melodrama, already! _It had been four years. Get used to it._

Elliot quickly lost himself in old cases. He had put so many people away over the years. Here was a file for Anton Petrov, the man he and Olivia had busted for the trafficking of unborn babies. They had pretended to be a married couple who couldn't conceive; he smiled a little, remembering how easily it had come to them. Elliot glanced up at Noah, who was playing with the salt.

"What do you think, Noah? Petrov was pretty angry, huh? But he hated Jo more than me, and she's fine." Actually, he didn't know if his old partner and A.D.A. was fine. He realized that he had a lot of people he needed to call when he was sure it was safe.

"Pancakes," Noah offered.

"You are absolutely right, Noah. Pancakes did this." Elliot couldn't help but smile–he may have created a pancake monster, and he wasn't entirely sorry. Noah giggled in response, and Elliot looked back to his work.

Soon enough he realized that he could spend months going through all of his old files, and decided instead to turn his attention to everyone involved in Jenna's case. He hated Barba, but he had to start somewhere. Luke Ronson and Eddie Skinner were the two main guys there, but he didn't know that either of them had anything against him in particular. Who else had a connection to Jenna? He made a note to look into her surviving family and friends, but he felt doubtful that the case was really connected.

He had only gotten through a third of the first box by the time Olivia came home.

"How did it go with Kathy?" He asked as Noah grabbed his face.

She shook her head and took Noah from his arms, face lightening somewhat as he babbled excitedly, clearly happy to see her. "I'll tell you over dinner."

"Okay," he said, curiosity growing to distracting levels. "Um...Do you mind if I take a shower?" He was tired of being filthy, and now he had some actual clothes to change into.

"Of course not," she laughed. "Make yourself at home, El. Really."

"Alright," he said, trying to contain a smile as he headed into the bathroom. As he caught sight of himself in the mirror, he froze. The smile fell from his face; he was afraid to breathe, afraid to move. Elliot didn't recognize himself.

The man in front of him looked nothing like he did; he was terribly thin; his muscles had wasted away along with his padding, and he had shocking hollows under his eyes. He tried to smile, to make himself look less frightening, but it seemed wrong. He put a hand to his new beard, and resolved immediately to shave. He noticed to creases in his forehead and lines around his eyes, which were the only comforting thing about his appearance. His eyes were still stormy blue, and though they held fear, they were undeniably his. The same eyes he had had since he was a boy, even if they were a bit more haggard.

Focusing on the similarities, Elliot stepped into the shower and turned on the water, the hot spray blasting away weeks of accumulated grime. He had only been allowed to use dry shampoo in the hospital; they were afraid he would fall in the shower, and by the time he was well enough to walk on his own, cleanliness wasn't his first priority. This first real shower made him feel really and truly clean.

Turning off the water, Elliot wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped in front of the mirror again. _Better,_ he thought, running a hand over his beard. Olivia had set out some toiletries for him; unopened razors and a toothbrush. His beard disappeared next, and he brushed his teeth just because he could. About to leave, Elliot noticed that his hair had become long and floppy. He quickly found a pair of scissors and hacked at it until he was satisfied. Looking over his appearance, he felt like a few good meals might get him back to his old self. His reflection still wasn't right, but it was closer to normal. Though he was...Elliot had to do the math. He was 49 now, and he couldn't expect to look the same. _49\. Jesus. How had that never occurred to him before?_

Shaking his head as he tried for the millionth time to dismiss his lost years, Elliot dressed quickly and stepped out of the steamy air feeling much better. And cleaner.

Olivia had changed out of her sharp work clothes and into an everyday T-shirt and maxi-skirt. Noah bounced happily on her hip, grabbing her oatmeal colored shirt. He couldn't help but smile as he looked at them. They were so happy just being together.

"You clean up nicely," she said with a smile.

"Thanks. I don't really think beards are my thing…" He smiled a little. "What's for dinner?"

"Eggs, bacon, and I used up your leftover pancake batter."

"Ah," he found himself grinning. "Noah, you're getting pancakes again."

The little guy giggled at him, shoving his fist in his mouth.

"He wouldn't stop talking about them," Olivia said with a little laughter in her voice. "I think they're his new favorite food."

Elliot held back laughter. It was such a simple thing, Noah and pancakes, but it made him absurdly happy. Olivia brought the food over to the table, and he promised himself that he would be the one to cook her dinner tomorrow.

"I figured you couldn't live on takeout forever."

He shrugged with a slight smirk. "We're both cops, Liv. You know that takeout, coffee, and a multivitamin are all you really need to live on."

"Don't forget the donuts." Elliot laughed; one of the reasons he loved being a cop was that he got to eat lots of donuts. For ironic purposes, of course.

"Donuts," Noah repeated, wide eyed.

"Uh-oh," Olivia said, a smile creeping onto her face. Elliot laughed nervously.

"Donuts," he repeated insistently. She covered her face, holding back laughter. Elliot shoved eggs into his mouth, trying to stay stoic.

"Donuts!" Noah shouted, and collapsed into laughter. They exchanged a glance, and suddenly it was too funny not to laugh alongside him. Elliot laughed until his belly hurt, which, given the state of his abs, didn't take too long. He clutched his stomach, which was going into spasms, but he couldn't stop. Olivia wiped her eyes, giggling weakly.

"Oh, Noah. I'll bring home some donuts tomorrow, okay?"

He made a sound like " _Hee hee."_

And then they were laughing again.

After a while of easy talk and laughter, Elliot found himself watching as Olivia sunk into her thoughts, serious again. His curiosity flared quickly to life inside of him as she got ready to talk about what had happened with his former wife. It was so strange thinking of her that way–they had been together for 25 years.

"So," she finally said. "Kathy."

He put down his fork immediately, giving her his full attention. "Kathy," he agreed.

She rested her chin on her hand, staring at the top of Noah's head. "Fin and I went to see her after lunch. She was...definitely surprised to see us. She thought that you were dead."

He would have choked if he had had food in his mouth. "Dead? Why?"

"I honestly don't know. It was almost like she was expecting it." He narrowed his eyes, confused. "She said, 'What else am I supposed to think, with you people showing up at my house after four years?'"

He sighed. "That sounds like her. It's actually...part of why we split up. After so many close calls, so many shoot-outs and hostage situations, she just started to feel like it was inevitable. The way she looked at me, I felt like a dead man walking around her…" He stopped, confused. Talking about his marital problems had always been off limits for them. But then, he was divorced now, wasn't he? He and Olivia didn't even work together anymore. He was here as a friend. _The rules are different now._

"I know what she means. How many narrow escapes do we have in us?" She looked at Noah, eyes tainted with worry. "But, anyways, when we told her that you had been in a coma, she looked...And I don't know why, but she looked like she felt really guilty. She said that she could never figure out why you didn't visit your kids."

There was a lump in his throat. "Yeah."

"They want to see you. I gave them my home phone number, they said they would be calling some time tomorrow."

"Thank you," he breathed. He needed to hear their voices. "How are they?"

"They're all really glad that you're okay. They've gotten so big...They're all doing fine, but I'll let them be the ones to fill you in on everything."

"Okay." He could hardly imagined what had happened in their lives; four years was a lot longer for a kid than it was for an adult. "What else?"

"I asked her about the night you disappeared. She said that you were really upset about Jenna." She stroked Noah's hair absentmindedly.

"I was," he admitted. "She was just a kid."

She nodded. "It was a horrible case. Kathy said that when you got home, she told you that she had finally filed the divorce papers, and wanted you to move out as soon as possible. She said...that that made you angry."

"Yeah, it did. It was the house my kids grew up in. I had just shot and killed a victim, and I only wanted to get a night of rest before going into work the next day. I knew that I.A.B. would be all over my ass, and suddenly I was homeless on top of it all." He stopped, getting too worked up. "Sorry, keep going."

"You packed some things. Said you were going to stay with a friend, and would pick up the rest of your stuff later. You just...left."

Elliot felt his cheeks growing hot, and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. A friend...He had meant Olivia. He had been trying to hurt Kathy in the most juvenile way possible. "I remember that now."

"Okay...So, any idea who this friend might be?"

He looked up at her. "So I didn't come knocking down your door and yelling at the top of my lungs about how messed up everything was?"

She blinked, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. She looked down at Noah, and bounced him on her knee. "Definitely not."

"Okay, so where does that leave us? I just drove out and the hospital found me in Brooklyn?"

"Pretty much. At least we know you weren't kidnapped." Her phone rang, and she picked it up. "Benson." He couldn't stop staring at it, this metal rectangle; didn't she used to have a normal flip phone? "Mmhm. Are you sure?" She put it down after a few minutes had passed, face ashen.

"What?" He asked, afraid. "Liv, what is it?"

She looked into his eyes for several long moments. "Some nurses recognized Kathy's picture. She was at the hospital. A week after you wound up there, she walked into your wing. Said she was lost."

He blinked, shocked, until the anger set in. "She _saw_ me? She knew that I was there?" He couldn't believe it. "Why didn't she tell someone? She didn't think to tell my kids that I hadn't walked out on them, or you, or anyone?" His voice had risen to a shout, and Noah didn't like it. He pulled himself together. "I'm sorry, Noah," he sighed, smoothing his hair. "Don't cry, little guy. It's alright."

He stared at Olivia as a sickening horror replaced his rage. He felt like he had just been shot. "Kathy did this."

"Elliot," Olivia looked like he'd hit her. "I don't think Kathy would try to kill you."

"Maybe not, but she may as well have. Just–Liv, think how different things would have been if she had told you," he pleaded. "You spent all this time thinking that I had left you. That's all on her, Olivia. She did that."

Tears glimmered in her brown gaze as they stared at each other from across the table. Her face quickly transformed in fierce anger. "Damn. Damn it. Why would she do this? What gives her the right?"

"I think it was revenge," he admitted softly. She looked at him; _what?_ "All those nights I was out with you. She stayed up waiting, not knowing where I was." He shook his head, venom lacing his heart. "She must have thought it was fitting."

"It wasn't my fault we were partners," she said immediately. "I never–I never did _anything_ out of line. Did I?" Suddenly, she was unsure, caught between anger and concern.

He answered immediately. "No, Liv. Never. It was just her. But…"

"But what?"

Their eyes locked, and he had to look away from the intensity. "How would you feel if your husband spent all his time out with another woman? A very–beautiful–woman, whom he would take a bullet for without even thinking. Who always knew where he was, even when you–she–didn't?"

He couldn't meet her eyes, didn't want to see her reaction. He had never told her before that he thought she was beautiful. In one sentence, he had changed 12 years of partnership.

She cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I can't say I would like it." There was an angry pause. "But I definitely wouldn't do _this_."

"Is there any chance she followed me out that night?"

Her eyes shot up. "It's possible, I guess, but..."

"She did think I was going to your apartment. Maybe I got there, maybe she lost it. Whacked me outside."

"If that's true, somebody might have heard. We should ask around the building. I don't want to believe it, but...After this, who knows? We've seen plenty of cases like it, after all." She hesitated for a split second before making up her mind. "Has she ever gotten violent with you?"

He blinked at her, remembering the time she had slapped him. "Yeah...Yeah, she has, but honestly, I don't blame her." It felt so strange admitting this to her. He kept crossing lines that had always felt permanent. There was something exhilarating about it. It made him want to get down on his knees and spill his guts.

Olivia swallowed, pushing her food around her plate. "Let's see if she has an alibi."

Elliot didn't know what to think. He was so angry at Kathy, but if it was her, the mother of his children would go to prison. "Alright. So what about Warren and the crime scene?"

"Melinda's bringing over a full report of your injuries tomorrow around noon. She'll examine your scar, too. As for the crime scene, C.S.U. went over it, but the trace evidence is probably all gone by now. Munch and Cragen didn't find any weapons, but they think that your head might have been smashed against the dumpster. Melinda will be able to confirm or deny that...They're still trying to piece together the attack, but we'll know more tomorrow."

Elliot winced, unconsciously putting a hand to his scar. The back of a dumpster. "If that's true, I doubt it was Kathy. She doesn't have the physical strength to get that kind of advantage on me."

Olivia nodded, hugging Noah close to her as she watched him. "Can I–Can I see your scar?"

He was taken aback. "Sure."

She place Noah carefully in his high chair and walked behind him. He thought again how she always smelled like coffee, probably because she drank so much. Her hands hovered around his head, unsure. He took one of them, and guided it to the two inches of strange flesh on his scalp. Her fingers found the spot, about an inch and a half above where his skull met his neck. As she parted his hair, he held his breath, chills racing along his spine at having her so close. He hoped she couldn't see the effect she was having on him. At last, her light touch disappeared, and she stepped away, looking at him with some anger.

"I'm sorry–" He said quickly, thinking he had made her uncomfortable.

"Why are you sorry? I just…" She took a breath, expression bitter. "I just hate that someone did this to you." She gestured at the scar. "You...you could have died, Elliot." Her voice broke, and she pursed her lips, examining his face as if to reassure herself that he was still there. He caught her hand in his, and pressed it to his lips for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut. He heard her let out a sigh as he moved it to his heart, reveling in the small warmth of the contact.

"Olivia," he said softly. He didn't have anything else to say, nothing to make it better. He had almost died. "I'm here now. And it'll take a hell of a lot more than a botched murder to make me leave again."

She smiled a wobbly smile, and he stood, pulling her into his arms as he had done only a few times over their years together. He felt Olivia relax into his embrace, letting out a breath as she rested her head against his shoulder. He pressed his cheek to the softness of her hair, and for a moment they just breathed together in their shared warmth. Eventually, she pulled back with a shaky breath and a smile, and squeezed his arm gratefully before turning back to Noah.

"It's past your bedtime, isn't it, Noah?" He was half-asleep, eyes opening and shutting drowsily. "Come on." She flashed Elliot a warm smile, and went to put him to bed.

His emotions felt like they were spinning out of control; he had been horribly confused, betrayed, angry, and sad, and now his knees felt like they might give out at any moment. He had held himself back from loving Olivia all these years, and he had never realized how important their boundaries were. One touch, and he couldn't stop thinking about more. He started putting dinner away, trying to refocus his thoughts on the case, going over what he knew. What would Warner have to say? He hoped that she would be able to tell him if he had defensive wounds. He wanted to believe that he had at least fought back.

Olivia came back in the room, sweeping his thoughts clean out of his mind. Sometimes he forgot how beautiful she was. And then she would walk into a room; the light would hit her just right, or she would smile a certain knowing smile; it took his breath away every time. She was truly intoxicating.

"Elliot," she reminded him. "Why are you staring?"

He shook his head, knowing that she didn't want to hear the way he felt around her right now. Like he had been hit over the head with a baseball bat, but in a good way.

"So," he said, trying to change the subject. "Why exactly did you move? I always thought you liked your old place."

"I did," she agreed. "Until it became a crime scene."

He blanched. "Oh," he said lamely. _He was in her home._ He fought to keep himself from losing it. He stared at the carpet, counting stitches.

"Elliot," she said. "I know that you have questions. And I know how hard it must be to not have the answers, but you've waited until I was ready. I appreciate that. And I think that you have a right to know. I'm tired of this distance between us, so...You can ask."

He stared at her, at her honest brown eyes and the strands of hair she had tucked nervously behind her ear. She had given him permission, and he was terrified of what he might learn. But he still had to know. If she had the courage to survive it, then he would have the courage to hear it.

"Thank you," he said quietly, grateful that she was ready to start trusting him. "I...I don't want to make you relive anything. But Liv, I have to know–what happened with Lewis?"

 **...**

 **Sorry for the cliffhanger! See you soon, and remember to review!**

 **xoxo**


	9. Chapter 9

_"I...I don't want to make you relive anything. But Liv, I have to know–what happened with Lewis?"_

She smiled shakily, eyes sad. "We'd better sit down. It's a long story."

"I'll make some coffee," he offered quickly. In part it was a selfish decision; he wanted a moment to prepare himself, but he also thought that Olivia might appreciate it for the same reason. A short time later they were sitting on the couch, holding hot mugs that neither of them had any interest in drinking. Olivia's legs were tucked up under her, and her eyes were far off as she stared out the window. He had never been able to see so many lines in her face.

"He didn't rape me," she said quietly. For a split second, Elliot felt relief. But as he watched her, saw the quiver in her lips and the ghosts in her eyes; he knew that that didn't make her any less of a victim. He had never seen her so afraid; he had only seen her stoicism crumble a few times over their years together, and never like this. Never with such devastation. _What had he done to her?_

"Lewis…" Her voice fell, and they were left alone in the darkness. He could feel her pain, feel how it cut and ached and raged inside her. He wanted so much to take it away, even just to share the weight that she carried. He set their coffee mugs down on the table and took her hand instead, determined to give her every bit of support he had in him. She looked up, and smiled weakly at him. "Sorry."

He shook his head, clutching her warm hand. He would wait a thousand years just to be there for her. "Take your time, Liv. As much as you need."

"You'd think it wouldn't be so hard to talk about this. I have a therapist, I've been through court; I've told this story a hundred times." She looked openly at him. "But this is you."

He looked into her eyes, willing her to understand. "Liv, I'm not going to judge you."

She smiled a little. "You were my partner for 12 years. You know me better than anyone, and I just...I don't want you to think I'm weak."

Elliot's heart sank. He could never, not in a million lifetimes, see Olivia as weak. He could see what it cost her to admit that, and shook his head vigorously. "Olivia…You are the strongest person I have ever met. I think you might even be the strongest person in the world." She looked like she wanted to interrupt him, but he held up his hand. "And it's not just the way that you can take down a perp or fire a gun. You've proven that you can handle yourself time and time again, but you have another kind of strength, a kind that is so much more important." He looked at her. "It's your heart, Olivia. You have such a beautiful heart."

"You've had to deal with too much fucking pain in your lifetime, but you still find it in you to get up every day and fight for yourself and for your victims. I can't imagine how much strength it takes to be you. But it gives me hope–you give me hope. So don't you dare worry that I'll ever see you as weak–Liv, you are my strength."

She stared at him with wide, fearful eyes and offered a tiny smile, tightening her grip on his hand. She nodded to herself, closing her eyes, and began to speak. Her voice was halting and brimming with restrained panic. Elliot hated that he was doing this to her; asking her to relive it all.

"When I was with Lewis, he was always in control. Even when I had him handcuffed, even when I had a gun to his head. The whole time, he was playing me. It was just a game to him, from the moment I met him in interrogation to the moment he blew out his brains in front of me."

Olivia stopped and took a breath, getting herself back under control. She began to recount the basic facts of the abduction in her best detached detective's voice. He had started by flashing teenagers and gone on to rape and torture a 60 year old woman at gunpoint for 18 hours. Alice Parker. A brave woman who would have done whatever it took to put him away for good, but died of a heart attack before she got the chance to testify. His lawyer had cast doubt on the DNA samples and forced a mistrial. Lewis had gotten out on bail, and gone to Olivia's apartment that same night.

"Cragen had ordered me to take a few days off. He actually said that if I showed up at work, he would have me arrested. But Brian was supposed to come over, Brian Cassidy...We were dating." Elliot blinked, but didn't say anything. "And then he called and cancelled. And I knew that nobody was coming to save me."

He couldn't help himself; the defeat in her voice was too much for him. He pulled her into his arms, blinded by an overwhelming despair. _He should have been there. He should have been there when she needed him._ A few heartbeats passed with Olivia in his arms before she released the tense breath she was holding, accepting his comfort for only a single brief moment. She pulled back, collected again.

"It was two days before anyone noticed something was wrong. But…"

"What is it, Liv?"

"When they found my apartment, it was pretty clear what had happened. But they couldn't figure out how Lewis got inside. I still don't know how he did it." She sighed. "That's really why I moved."

Because if he got in so easily the first time, what was to stop him from doing it again? Elliot wished he had been there, he might have been able to figure it out.

"There was no sign of forced entry?"

She shook her head. "None, El. He was just... _there._ "

"Could…" He didn't want to scare her. "Could somebody have let him in?"

"I–" Her face was a picture of horror. "I have no idea who would…"

He shook his head, immediately wishing he could take back his words. "Probably no one, Liv, he could have just stolen your key and made a copy. There could be lots of explanations, don't worry about it." Though he couldn't help but wonder; who else had had a key?

"Yeah...You're right." But she didn't look convinced. "He um...He had me for four days. A lot of it's just a blur…" She shook her head. "He kept me so drugged and drunk. No food, no sleep, just enough water to stay alive...Trying to think was like pulling teeth."

He heard the pained frustration in her voice, and felt a slow, deadly anger flare up inside of him. For Olivia to be treated like that, like absolute garbage instead of the beautiful human being that she was...He realized that his grip on her hand was tightening, and forced himself to breathe.

"What I do remember...He–" Her voice broke, and she took a breath, irritated with herself. "He was a–sadist. There's nothing he likes more than making people...scream." Elliot couldn't feel his face. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. His mind replayed her impossible words over and over again, trying to make sense of them; _making people scream making people scream making people scream._

"He burned my–He used cigarette butts and coat hangers, and he branded his initials on to my skin. They're still there." Her hand hovered near her chest for a moment before she pulled it back, remembering herself. The realization of what she meant was almost enough to make him lose it. Rage shook him to the core, burning through his veins, driven to terrifying heights by the venomous pain that he felt for her. _Pull yourself together_ , his own voice ordered him from far away. _She needs you to stay strong._

"It was...incredibly painful. I won't deny that, but I could handle it." Her voice was shaking violently. He had never heard her stutter before. "The worst part was watching him. Elliot...There were other women."

He blinked at her, unable to process what she was saying. He made her… "Liv," he gulped. "He made you watch while he raped other women?" Her lips trembled, and he saw the memories glaze her eyes with horror as she nodded.

"Jesus, Liv." The words leapt from his throat before he thought to contain himself. Olivia was the most empathetic person he had ever met, probably the most empathetic person in the world. She felt her victims' pain like it was her own, and it was one of the things he loved best about her: her inability to be apathetic. But Lewis...He had used it to hurt her. He had taken the best of her and turned it against her. Elliot felt sick with grief. His hand shook as he put it over hers, and he squeezed his eyes shut to hold back his poisonous tears.

"There was nothing I could do," she said slowly. "I couldn't even close my eyes without him burning me. I watched her become a victim right in front of me. How do you think she must have felt when she realized that nobody could protect her from being raped? From being murdered, if he felt like it? Her life depended on his sick impulses. The detective who was supposed to catch him was lying duct taped on the floor in front of her, drugged out of her mind and burned all over, utterly _useless_ –"

"Liv," he said insistently. "That's what he wanted. He wanted to prove to you that he was in charge. He wanted you to stop seeing yourself as a capable detective, and start believing that you were his helpless victim. He was trying to break you in."

She looked at him as if she couldn't quite believe it. Eventually, she spoke. "I guess...I'll just never be able to understand how human beings are so disposable to him."

"That's because you're nothing like him."

She didn't really respond, just looked at him. "A lot of the time we spent together, we were just driving around, looking for the 'perfect place.' He wanted to take his time with me."

The words were like knives in Elliot's gut, and he tightened his grip on her hand, as if he could somehow protect her from the past.

"A cop pulled us over, and Lewis killed him. He was just a kid." Her voice ached, but she held steady. "We stopped for supplies...A blow torch, extra duct tape...Finally, we found it. The place he was looking for. A beach house in Long Island."

Olivia stopped talking, visibly lost in memories. She was quiet for a long time, and Elliot worried that he had pushed her too far. He squeezed her hand; _you okay?_ She looked up, as if remembering where she was, and nodded. Her expression quickly transformed with pain.

"He, um…He wanted to humiliate me. He had been giving me so much vodka...I needed to go to the bathroom. Lewis...helped me." She spoke the last two vile words with extreme distaste, as if they were poison.

His grip on her hand tightened, and she winced. "Sorry," he whispered, loosening his hold a fraction but not letting go. "Keep going."

"He handcuffed me to the iron bed frame and went to ditch the car. I tried to get loose, but…" She sounded frustrated with herself.

"You were handcuffed," he reminded her gently, although his insides were burning in outrage.

"I know." She nodded, as if reassuring herself. "When he got back, I tried to get him to take off the cuffs. I told him...that I could give him a struggle." She looked at him as if expecting judgement, but offered none. She had been fighting for her life, and he wouldn't have expected anything less. "He knew what I was trying to do. He got angry...Put my gun in my mouth...And told me that we were playing by his rules now. He wanted me to say it."

"Say...what?"

Olivia took a breath, staring out the window. "I'll do anything," she said in a detached, flat voice. "I want to live."

Elliot's rage roared to life inside him, a caged beast that smashed into him like a tidal wave and left him drowning in his own pain. This was the most powerful anger of his life, and he knew instantly that it would always be a part of him. But he had also never possessed such a desperate need to keep his rage under control, such a sharp knowledge of the pain he would cause if he let himself loose. The two extremes battled for dominance inside of him, leaving him paralyzed, and he could do nothing but hold Olivia's hand in his and struggle to keep breathing.

"When I was interrogating him for the rape of Alice Parker...He got off on telling me the details. The torture that he put her through. How in the beginning, she begged for her life, but by the end...She was begging him to end it. Only later did I realize that he was making me a promise, telling me everything he had was going to do to me."

"But...But he didn't rape you?"

She shook her head, fierce anger mingled with contempt in her gaze. "Maybe he would have, I don't know. But on the last day, the cleaning lady and her daughter came to the house. I was so scared that he would hurt the little girl...I got the iron bar from the bedframe loose, and I beat him." Her last words rang with conviction. "I took his gun and I handcuffed him...But it was still just a game to him."

"Liv...He wasn't in control then. He was handcuffed, you had the gun. How was it a game?"

She shook her head, visibly sickened. "Physically, he was restrained. But he still...He got inside my head." Olivia turned her eyes to his, and he saw her fear; a huge, primal thing that time had done nothing to lessen. "Everything that I try to hide...He knew. He knew about my Dad, he knew about you, he knew...everything. He knew _me_." She pressed her hands to her temples. "God, why does talking about it make it feel so real?"

He hadn't want her to have to go through this again. "We can take a break, if you want."

"No, no it's fine. I can do this." She met his eyes with determination and took his hand again. She was living through it all again, and her climbing terror was obvious, but she was still determined to get through. It made his heart ache for her.

"Somehow, Lewis knew that I wouldn't shoot him. That I just didn't have it in me. But after what he had done, to so many women…" She looked at him simply. "Maybe I couldn't kill him, but I could beat him. And he wasn't counting on that. Except when I started, I couldn't stop. I just couldn't stop _hitting_ him. I wanted him to hurt, to feel some fraction of the pain he had caused in his miserable lifetime."

"I understand," he said softly, his thumb running across her hand as he held it. "Liv, that's not wrong."

She shook her head, face tense with guilt. She was squeezing his hand so hard it hurt, but he didn't say anything. "It is wrong. I'm a police officer. I beat an unarmed, incapacitated man nearly to death and then I lied about it on the stand. I committed perjury, Elliot."

"Liv," he said in disbelief. "He pushed you to your breaking point. Everybody has one; being a detective doesn't make you immune to that. And if you hadn't lied, you would have lost your badge. Maybe even gone to prison. He would have won– _again_."

"I just...I couldn't let him take that away from me. I don't know what that makes me...But I do know that he never forgot it. When it was time for his trial, he represented himself. He, uh...He said some disgusting things, but he couldn't get me to admit to it. So when he broke out of prison and took a 12 year old, Amelia, hostage, his first act was to get me to confess to police brutality and perjury on national television."

Olivia's face tightened with the stress of the memory. "The morning he got out, he sent me a video message. He said he missed me...Hours later, I was with him again. I had to go to Amelia, El–" She looked at him, as if begging him to understand. Of course he understood. Her reckless selflessness made him want to scream sometimes, but he knew that it was simply who she was. It didn't matter what it cost her; if a child needed her, she would give it away willingly. She had faced him again; she had walked back into Hell and re-traumatized herself to save a child she had never even met. Olivia was truly the strongest person he knew.

He nodded at her. "I understand, Liv."

"He drove me to an abandoned sawmill. He had her strung up by her hands…" Her voice trailed off as she fell into the horror of the memory. He squeezed her hand, and her eyes lifted up again. "He gave me a choice; He could rape me, or he could rape Amelia. I told him to rape me." She formed the last two words carefully, as if they were in a foreign language. They didn't belong in her mouth.

"But...He didn't."

She shook her head, and he held her hand just a little tighter. "When I decided not to struggle, he got bored. But...Honestly, it doesn't make sense to me that he would give up that easily. He had all the leverage; surely he could have found a way to make me fight back?"

"Yeah," Elliot said, equally confused. "I mean, I'm glad that he didn't, but...After all the other women, why not you?"

"That's the question, isn't it? I'm exactly his type; older, educated, cultured. What stopped him?"

"Maybe…" Elliot muttered. "Maybe he was afraid of you. Going after you twice, everything that he did...It's almost like he was trying to prove to himself that he was really in control of you. But when it came around to the actual act, he just couldn't do it.

She looked at him, mouth open. "You think...He did have me for four days before he tried anything," she conceded. "You really think that he was afraid of me? I thought…"

"I know that you thought he was in control, but that's only because he was trying so hard to make it that way. I think that you had a power over him. Liv, you're so self-possessed. Always the detective. From what I've heard, he has to be in control, and you didn't make anything easy for him. You stayed in control of yourself. Maybe his obsession with you...I think he was trying to prove to himself that he could break anyone, even you. But when it came down to it, he couldn't."

He felt her shaking, and hesitated before wrapping his arms around her again. "Liv," he whispered into her hair, voice shaking with a million things he wanted to say. At last, he settled on the most important one. "You're stronger than he was." She turned her face to his, shining with tears. He dropped his head with a sigh, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You are the strongest, bravest, most selfless person in the world. He saw you for that, and it threatened him. He tried to break you, but he didn't. _You beat him_."

His hand stroked her hair gently as she buried her face in his shirt, letting out a shuddering sigh.

"I really hope that's true," she whispered in a choked voice.

"It is," he insisted, pulling back so that she would look at him. "Olivia, _you won_." His own eyes were burning with emotion, and a few of his tears fell. He watched as she blinked at him in confusion, her lips pressed tightly together. She seemed to convulse, clapping a hand to her mouth, eyelids drooping under the weight of colossal tears. Great, shaking sobs wracked her body. She held her hands like she didn't know what to do with them, and he brought her close, his own silent tears joining hers.

"Elliot," she choked out. "Elliot, I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" His crying was not so silent anymore.

Her face contorted again with pain. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you. You're my partner. You would–you would never just leave like that. I should have known, I should have checked hospitals–"

Elliot had pressed his lips to hers before he knew what he was doing, and they were both frozen in shock at the intimacy of the kiss he had unwittingly initiated. The feel or her trembling mouth on his was so distracting, but he didn't want to frighten her or take advantage of her vulnerability. Several terrifyingly intimate moments passed before he made his decision. He moved his lips with hesitant care, giving her the gentlest kiss he had in him. It only lasted for a moment before he pulled away and looked at her, hoping that she could forgive his trespass. Elliot had only been thinking of comforting her, but as Olivia stared up at him with wide eyes, he felt a very real fear. Had he just ruined their relationship? He looked into her with warm, desperate eyes, trying to communicate that his intentions had at least been honorable. She was still crying, but he had shocked her into silence. Every second that passed was an eternity, and finally she looked down.

"I haven't even finished," she muttered to herself. "This is one hell of a story, huh?"

He nodded, relief flooding him. He thanked God that she had decided to let it pass; he didn't think he could even breathe without her in his life. Olivia pulled back a little ways from him so that he could no longer feel her warm breath on his skin. There was distance again.

She sighed, a ragged, shaking sigh, and spat out the bitter words. "When he got bored trying to rape me, he made me play Russian Roulette. After everything I had survived, I was going to die at my own hands. I didn't know how much I needed to live until I put the gun to my head." She closed her eyes. "I pulled the trigger three times. On the last round, Lewis pointed the gun at me and told me to say goodbye. Then he switched hands and killed himself."

"Why?" He had known that Lewis had killed himself, but he hadn't imagined it happening when he held all the power.

"I don't know why his life was worth so little to him, but he used it to frame me for his murder. He switched hands, he held the gun at the right angle and distance; even his last words were for a jury's benefit. I had told Amelia to look away, so nobody but me knew the truth. And after I had confessed to police brutality and perjury...Who was going to believe me?"

He looked at her with despair. "That bastard. He wanted to take your career away from you. He wanted you to live out the rest of your life in prison because of him. Liv...He really was obsessed with you."

"I think...I think you might be right."

He smiled softly at her, and she returned it with a small one of her own. "But you got off, Liv. He's dead, and you're alive. You have your life, you have your career, you have Noah…"

"And I have you," she smiled shyly. "I'm glad I lived to see you come back."

"Me, too." He couldn't help the wide smile that was hurting his face. "I honestly thought that you were going to punch my lights out."

She laughed softly, eyes luminous in the velvet night. "I thought about it...But fortunately for you, I like your face too much to mess it up." Olivia smiled laughingly at him, and he felt himself melt in her gaze.

After several long moments, she looked down again. "You probably have some questions, huh?"

"A couple, but I'll try to keep it short." She looked at him, waiting. "First of all, did he rape Amelia?" He hoped to God that she was okay. After everything that Olivia had risked for her, it would be the cruelest sort of fate if Lewis had simply raped her anyways.

"No," she shook her head. "As it turns out, Lewis has no interest in 12 year olds. Just me."

Elliot sighed angrily. "You saved that girl's life."

"It'll never be the same. Lewis murdered her mother, raped her sister, and abducted her." She stared at him in outrage. "How can he feel no remorse for what he's done to them? Amelia was only 12. She's had to learn fear, to grow up too fast, and now she's lost her mother. She'll never be the same."

He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "It's wrong." He didn't know what more he could say.

"Damn right, it's wrong."

They sat in silence for a while before he remembered his other question. "How did he escape from prison?"

Her face fell into a scowl. "Did I forget to mention that he had a bad habit of making important people fall in love with him?" Olivia rolled her eyes. "During my trial, he somehow got the jury's forewoman to fall for him. Four months after he was convicted, she sent him cupcakes spiked with enough drugs to kill a horse. He started having seizures, died a few times...But he came back to life and convinced his guard to take off his cuffs. He raped a nurse and stole her car."

"What–What was wrong with her?" He couldn't believe anybody could be that recklessly stupid. It was insane.

She shook her head. "She wasn't a dumb woman, El. Lewis just...He knows people, and she wasn't the only one who fell for it. His defense attorney for the Alice Parker case–the one who paid his bail–he murdered her father and raped her mother right in front of me. And his prison doctor–Amelia was her daughter, and look what he did to them. He has a long history of going through people like this...It's just his M.O."

He found himself wishing that he could have met Lewis. The detective in him wanted to talk to him, to find out how exactly his sick brain worked. And then the rest of Elliot wanted to kill him.

Then he remembered something that struck him as wrong. "Wait, but nothing bad happened to the forewoman? She helped him break out of prison, and then tried to put you in prison, but she's the only one who got off easy?"

She smiled tiredly. "Life's a bitch."

Elliot sighed, angry. "If Lewis weren't already dead, I would kill him."

"I know," she said quietly.

He swallowed, hesitating. He didn't want to be pushy, but he wanted to hold her. Luckily for him, she made the decision for him and snuggled up against him. At first he forgot to breathe, the memory of her lips flooding his mind, but he relaxed quickly and took her in his arms.

"Olivia," he sighed. "I know that this wasn't easy for you to talk about. So thank you. I wish that I could take back everything that he put you through, I wish that I could take back my coma–but I can't do any of that. You survived him all on your own, and the only thing I can do is promise to be here for you, now and always. We might not work together anymore, Liv, but you'll always be my partner. And if you'll let me, I'll carry this pain with you. I'll do everything that I can to be the partner you deserve."

She tilted her chin to look up at him with honest eyes. "Thank you," Olivia whispered. She smiled gently at him and put her head down on his chest. He heard her sigh softly, and as her breathing deepened, he realized with awe that she had fallen asleep. She felt safe enough to sleep in his arms. He held her closer, closing his eyes. His mind was seized by tortuous images of her story, but he was grounded by her warmth in his arms. She was his port in the storm. He could do this, he could live with this pain, because it meant that they were alive.

 **...**

 **I'm not going to lie, this was a difficult chapter to write. I hope I did it justice.**

 **As always, thank you for your continued support. I love reading your reviews!**

 **Tomorrow is the premiere of Season 17! I know that a lot of you stopped watching after Elliot left, but I personally am very excited for it. I'll try to make this story follow the current canon storyline, provided nothing *too crazy happens.**

 **xoxo**


	10. Chapter 10

Elliot's eyes shot open to the frail light of dawn, heart hammering with fear as he struggled into wakefulness. _What year was it?_

"Hey," Olivia whispered. His breath caught in his chest, and he tightened his arms around her with relief, memories coming back to him. _It was still 2015. He was in her apartment, he was holding her in his arms. Olivia was safe._

"Hi," he said softly, eyes meeting hers with a weak smile. He brushed a lock of stray hair behind her ear, hand still shaking from the lingering effects of terror. The simple gesture brought him back to the present and to peace; he could hardly believe that he was allowed to do that, to touch her in such a casual way. She was beautiful in the morning, her lips curled softly in a smile, and her laughing eyes were almost copper in the gray light.

"It's morning," she said.

"Mmm," he agreed, pulling her closer and shutting his eyes.

"Elliot, I have to go to work."

"It's Friday," he complained good-naturedly. She wasn't really trying to get up, he just wasn't making it any easier for her.

She rested her chin on his chest, and looked up at him. He opened one eye, and then closed it with a smile.

"El," she protested.

"Liv," he said. "I have waited for 16 years to wake up like this. Just give me a few minutes."

He heard her smile. "16 years, huh?"

"Shh," he said, hiding a grin, and pulling her head back down on his chest. He heard her laughing, and a second later, Noah started calling out for his mom. Elliot groaned as she rolled off of him. He immediately missed the glowing warmth of her presence; every time she left, it was like being plunged into freezing ice water.

"Hey, baby."

"Hi," he cracked open his eyes, and she looked at him with a raised brow and a silent laugh. She was talking to Noah.

"Donuts," he squealed happily. " _Hee hee._ "

Elliot hid a laugh and pushed to his feet. "Donuts," he agreed, sauntering over to stand a little closer than normal to them. Olivia blinked at him, but turned her attention back to Noah.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather have pancakes, sweetie?"

He shook his head. "Donuts."

She sighed, a smile twisting her lips. "I guess I could squeeze in a quick stop before work."

" _Hee hee._ " She pressed a kiss to the top of Noah's head, and then looked hesitantly at him.

"El…"

"I know it's not safe, Liv." His tone was light, but his heart was sinking. "Just bring me one with sprinkles, okay?"

"I know your donut order," she reassured him with an easy smile, grabbing her purse and heading out the door with Noah babbling happily in her arms. "I'll see you in twenty."

As the door swung shut behind him, Elliot couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. Whoever had tried to kill him had stolen so much, and somehow a Friday morning getting donuts with the two of them didn't seem like any small thing. He swallowed the lump in his throat, and turned back to the dark apartment. It was incredible how much colder it felt without them in it.

He sat down at the kitchen table, wondering if reading his old files would make the twenty minutes go by faster or slower. Elliot couldn't focus, his ears were ringing in the silence, and there was nothing to halt the horror invading his mind. He couldn't stop himself from thinking of Lewis, from thinking of everything he had put Olivia through. All of the evils that he should have protected her from. _I'll do anything. I want to live._ His knuckles turned white with outrage, and he swallowed his burning anger, forcing himself to breathe. He could do this, he could stay calm. _He had burned her breasts._ Elliot was standing up; he had knocked his chair over, and was staring around blindly as his hands shook with fury. _I knew that nobody was coming to save me._

A harsh yell escaped his throat, and he lashed out, kicking his chair and sending it skidding across the room. He could scarcely breathe, suffocating in the rage that was rushing through his veins and flooding him with fire. His fear of hurting Olivia and Noah had been his self control, but they weren't here now to soften his temper. Elliot was losing sight of himself, so out of control it terrified him. He needed to punch something, he needed to to kill Lewis, to attack anyone who had ever hurt her. But Lewis was dead, and he was drowning in the inferno that was his mind. _Please,_ he begged himself. _Remember Olivia._ Her lips on his, her aching gaze, the way she felt in his arms. Her with Noah, laughing out of pure, simple joy. Bit by bit, his anger slowly slipped away, leaving him desolate. Elliot felt weak with grief as his cramping muscles began to relax, and his world came back into focus around him, made sharper by pain. He breathed in and out, walking stiffly over to the chair he had kicked and putting it back into place. He sat down again, head in his hands, exhausted and ashamed of the way he had just lost control. Elliot hated his anger, hated how it seized him and left him powerless. He knew it would always be a part of him, and he knew he would always be afraid of hurting someone he cared about.

He jumped at the sound of keys in the door, shattering his thoughts. _Had it already been 20 minutes?_ He hated the way time could get away from him when he forgot himself; it was too much like waking up again. "We're back," Olivia had opened the door with a smile and a dozen donuts, Noah bouncing happily on her hip.

"Donuts!" He giggled, shoving a fist in his mouth. Elliot found his smile again, even though it was a little shaky, and went to greet them. He lifted Noah into his arms, smile softening into something real as he hugged the little guy.

"Ellie," Noah said with a grin. "Donuts." Elliot surprised himself by laughing aloud at the nickname, a simple happiness finding its way into his aching heart. The warmth of his love was every bit as powerful as his pain, and he suddenly realized the enormity of what Noah was to Olivia. He gave her so much joy, so much purpose and love. He made all the suffering bearable, all the pain less oppressive by simply being himself. Noah was truly a gift from God.

Olivia set their sugary breakfast down on the table with a laugh. "Ellie, could you get out some plates?" She smirked at him, and he rolled his eyes, going to get them.

"I happen to like my new name." His heart felt a bit lighter as he smiled at them. "Thank you, Noah. Ellie likes donuts."

Noah giggled. "Donuts."

"Yeah, yeah." Elliot smiled, ruffling his hair as a fresh wave of sadness washed over him. "What kinds did you get?" He squinted at the box, determined to distract himself. He was so caught between love and pain; he was so happy to be here with the two of them, but his joy struggled with the torment of knowing everything Olivia had been through. It was just so wrong that someone as beautiful and selfless and compassionate as she was should have ever been put through that kind of hell. _Breathe,_ he prodded himself as his anger attempted another uprising.

"Chocolate, sprinkles, jelly…" She looked up at him, and faltered, concern shading her gaze: _Are you okay?_

Elliot attempted a reassuring smile, but he couldn't quite pull it off. He waved a hand dismissively, bouncing Noah as he giggled. "I'm fine." It was a lie, and he knew it, but he wasn't going to bring up Lewis. He just wanted her to be happy, and she was right now.

" _Hee hee."_

They smiled at him. "Noah, do you like your donut?" He licked his fingers, giggling. The donut was as big as his face. Olivia turned to look at him. "I think I'm going to have to give him a lot of broccoli after this."

Elliot made a face, which Noah immediately copied. Suddenly, looking at them, he felt a want for words; he wanted to tell Olivia how much this little family meant to him. The way that Olivia looked at Noah, like he was her sun; it was the one part of all this that he wouldn't trade for anything. It was the one brilliant light that shone in the midst of all this darkness.

"What is it, El?"

He blinked at her, a dumb smile on his face. "I just…" He gestured vaguely. "I'm really happy for you, Liv. You make a great mother. This family...it suits you."

They stared at each other for a moment until a pleased smile spread across her face, and she turned away to hide a blush. "I'd better get to work." She kissed Noah, and looked at Elliot a little strangely before turning away again. "Remember to call your doctor."

"Okay...And yeah, I will. Melinda's coming over today, right?"

She nodded, fumbling with her keys. "I'll see you later, El."  
"Stay safe, Liv."

He hated watching her leave where he couldn't follow. He should be by her side, there to watch her back if she needed it. He looked down at a fart noise. Noah was blowing raspberries on his arm, and he tickled him, tossing him into the air as he screamed with laughter. Elliot was chuckling, too.

"Someday," he told Noah when he was sitting safely on his lap. "Ellie's going to take you out for donuts."

"Donuts," he agreed.

 **...**

 **Thanks for reading, lovelies. Leave a review if you feel like making me smile :) .**

 **If you caught the premiere, you may have also screamed at your television...Any theories on Amanda's baby daddy? Or WHY THEY BROUGHT THAT AWFUL FOREWOMAN BACK?**

 **xoxo**


	11. Chapter 11

Olivia brought Melinda Warner over around noon, when Noah was sleeping. She stopped, crossing her arms, and looked him up and down.

"A coma, huh?"

The corner of his mouth tugged up in a dark smile, and Olivia came over to stand by his side. "Good to see you, too, Melinda."

She nodded. "Well, let's see it, then." She motioned for him to sit down, and he went over nervously. She found the scar no problem, and spent a good two minutes examining it. Elliot was very uncomfortable, and wished he could hold Olivia's hand. Finally, Warner stepped away, having reached a verdict. "Someone really did a number on you, Stabler."

"What can you tell us?" Olivia asked anxiously, hand gripping his shoulder. Melinda reached into her bag and pulled out a red file, flipping through it.

"A lot, actually. For one thing, Elliot, your scar wasn't caused by a normal blade." She looked point-blank at the two of them. "Whatever it was used tremendous force, but it was also likely on fire. The way it burned your skin–"

"Wait," Olivia interrupted. "It's a burn mark?" Warner nodded. "What kind of–" Her fingers dug into his shoulder, letting him know that she was every bit as anxious as he was.

"Well, if you'd let me finish…"

"Sorry." She looked at Warner, biting her lip, waiting for her to finish.

Elliot remembered burning and blackness. He hadn't thought it was a real memory, maybe something from a dream, but now he was starting to think it was real. He closed his eyes, trying to capture more of it.

"The blade was four inches long, serrated, and hot enough to cauterize flesh. From the angle, I can tell that you were probably on your knees when the perp hit you from behind. Whoever it was had to be strong, or at the very least extremely angry. Your hands were cut up pretty badly, too, so it's safe to say that you started out fighting and were forced to your knees."

Elliot blinked, and looked down at his palms. Sure enough, they were rippled by long white scars. As he watched them, he noticed a slight tremor, and clenched his fists angrily. "How...How did I not notice that?"

"Let me see…" Olivia took his hand, and her face went from shock to pain to outrage in the space of a single moment. "God damn." She let go, and turned to Warner. "Do you know anything about the perp's size, or–Or anything to help us identify her?"  
"Her?" Warner said, curious. "Do you have somebody in mind?"

Elliot looked at Olivia, feeling sick, but she shook her head. "Him or her. Do you, Melinda?"

"If I had the knife, I could tell you more. If the attacker was female, though, she would have had to be pretty angry to do that kind of damage." She gestured to his scar. "Elliot, in addition to about a hundred bruises, you also had a few broken ribs and a ruptured spleen. The knife cuts on your hands probably did some damage to your nerves, as well. You might need physical therapy or surgery for your carpal tunnel...But I can see two possible scenarios here. In both, you start out with a confrontation, and the perp pulls a knife. You fight, and either the perp gets an advantage on you, or a second attacker appears with an easy way of subduing you, like a gun. You're forced to your knees, hit with the knife from behind, and kicked a few times for good measure."

He and Olivia stared at her in horror. _At least it wasn't the dumpster,_ he thought dully.

"It was a very deep cut. Your brain started bleeding in the ambulance, but they saved you once you got to the hospital. I'm surprised your memory isn't more damaged, honestly."

Elliot remembered waking up. Blinking at the white lights above him, a complete absence of thoughts in his head. He had never felt more animal, and had been so possessed by a primal fear that the nurses had had to sedate him several times before he was calm enough to proceed. Then they had told him the year, and it had happened all over again. It had taken weeks for all of his memories to come back to him, weeks for his brain to stop feeling so fragmented, and it still didn't feel right. When Elliot finally understood what had happened, how many years he had been away, and that nobody had been to see him...Here his memory stopped, made up entirely of a black-out rage and mind-numbing pain. He knew that he had tried to walk out of the hospital, he knew that his legs had failed him, and that he had fought through countless hours of grueling physical therapy just to be able to leave on his own.

"It's not perfect," Elliot growled. "Is that all?" He knew that he was being rude, but he didn't care. He couldn't get his mind out of the hospital, and he needed to be alone, to shut out those memories and these four walls. He hated not being able to leave, he hated it so much. He wanted to see his family, he wanted to see the sky, he wanted to walk and trust his body to carry him. He jumped at a sudden touch, and looked down to see Olivia's hand back on his shoulder. _You're hyperventilating,_ his own voice mentioned unhelpfully. She looked down at him with pain in her eyes and the promise of comfort.

"Melinda, can you just tell me the rest of this at work tomorrow?" She was asking. "Elliot and I have somewhere to be." He blinked at her, stunned that she was coming to his rescue without him even needing to ask.

"Oh," she said. "Of course. Good to see you, Stabler."

"You too," he managed.

Olivia showed her out, and then turned back to face Elliot, who felt himself crumbling inside. He balled his fists, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily, trying to get himself back under control. He heard Olivia walk over to him, and then felt hands on his knees. He opened his eyes slowly, and saw that she was kneeling on the ground in front of him. She looked up at him, warm eyes imploring.

"Talk to me, Elliot."

Tears pricked at his eyes, and his hands shook infuriatingly as he took hers. "How can I lean on you like this? You–" His voice faltered.

"Partners, remember?" She smiled softly at him. "We lean on each other, El. This is how it works."

His lips shook as he pulled them into a smile. _What had he ever done to deserve her?_ "I just…" He swallowed painfully. "I'm just really scared that I can't trust myself anymore. When I woke up...I didn't remember anything. It took me so long to put my mind back together, and what if something is still missing? Every time I remember something new, I wonder how much I'm still forgetting. I don't trust my mind anymore, and I don't trust my body either. My muscles are so weak, and my hands shake, and I'm still scared to sleep. I just feel so wrong and I–" He stopped talking, needing to breathe, and closed his eyes angrily as tears flooded them. He tried to calm his breathing, putting his fists to his forehead. _Pull yourself together, Stabler._

He felt Olivia stand, and suddenly she was sitting in his lap, arms wrapped around his neck. She leaned her head against his, eyes closed. Elliot was frozen in shock, but his arms thought for him and wrapped around her waist. He let out a shuddering sigh, sick of his shaking and his exhaustion and his tears.

"I'm sorry," she said, breath warm against his ear. "Elliot, I'm sorry." He heard the sorrow in her voice, and new tears leaked out of his eyes. He felt like brushing it off, but he found he couldn't. He just pulled her closer, closing his eyes against her shoulder. "Yeah," he agreed, throat tight. He was so tired of fighting his emotions, and in that moment he felt his resistance slip away. He was so _scared_. God, he was scared, and he had never felt so vulnerable. And he was so in love, he could hardly keep his head on. He was so angry at everything that had happened to Olivia, he was so angry at everything that had happened to himself, and he missed his kids so much his heart felt like it was tearing out of his chest...In that tiny eternity, Elliot could do nothing but feel; there was so much to feel. _Everything was so different._

"El," she said seriously. He pulled back to look at her. Her eyes were shining with pain, and her fingers traced patterns on his neck, sending shivers down his spine. "You need to call your doctor."

He felt like he had been punched in the stomach, and fought for breath. How had he forgotten? "What's...What's wrong with me? Why didn't I remember, you told me _twice_ , I–" His heart was racing a million miles a minute. _What was wrong with his brain?_

Olivia kissed his cheek warmly, startling him into silence and pulling her phone out of her pocket. "What hospital?"

"Um…" He couldn't stop his hands from playing with the bottom of her shirt. His fingertips brushed the skin of her back, and he pulled back, startled with himself. He rearranged them safely over the cloth. "New York General."

She typed something into her phone, and made the call. A woman answered after two rings.

"New York General Hospital, how may I direct your call?"

He looked nervously at Olivia, and she nodded encouragingly. "Um…" It took him a moment to remember his doctor's name. "Dr. McAllister's Office, please."  
"One moment." The phone clicked, and they were put on hold. Upbeat pop music filled the space. _I'm happy, happy, happy!_

"What is this song?" He couldn't help but ask, finding it a little ridiculous.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "One of the benefits of your coma; you didn't have to live through four years' worth of trends. It used to be that you literally could not leave your house without hearing this song..."

He laughed a little. "It is kind of catchy."

"No," she begged him. "Not you, too."

"Happy, happy, happy," he sung, grinning at her. She looked at him murderously, while trying not to laugh.

"Dr. McAllister's Office, how may I help you?"

He laughed silently at her, smirking. "My name is Elliot Stabler, I'm a patient of Dr. McAllister's…" Suddenly, the reality of the situation came back to him, and his smile fell away. "I have an appointment a few weeks from now, and I was hoping I could move it up."

There was silence, and his stomach knotted unpleasantly. "We have an appointment tomorrow at noon, but after that there will be a three month wait."

He exhaled, relieved. "No, tomorrow's great. I'll be there."

"Okay, please show up 15 minutes early to fill out paperwork and bring a full list of your current medications. Thank you."

"Thanks," he said hastily. The phone clicked off, and he looked at Olivia nervously. "Are you still coming with me?"

"Good luck stopping me." She smiled a little, and searched his face for a moment before letting out a little sigh and standing up, stretching. He got up, too, smoothing his jeans nervously. "I think I have to go back to work," she said reluctantly. "Our murder suspect skipped out on his bail, and we have to track him down."

He missed her already. "Alright."

"And I think I'll check out Kathy's alibi later, maybe ask around my old apartment building, too…"

"About that...I know it's not the safest thing in the world, but can I come with you to your old place? I want to see if I can figure out how Lewis got in."

She looked at him for a minute, a hint of a smile on her lips. "How do you feel about disguises?"

...

 **Aha...Ha. Okay, I'll see you guys soon.**

 **Thanks for reading, and thanks for reviewing! You guys rock.**

 **xoxo**


	12. Chapter 12

**I am going to take this moment to thank all of you lovely reviewers out there! Have I mentioned that I love you all? I try to respond, which I'm not generally very good at, so let me just say that it means the world to me that you guys 'get' my story. I don't frequently share my work, as it often feels too personal, but this has so far proved to be a very gratifying experience.**

 **And if you happen to be a silent reader or follower, let me thank you as well. Just for reading what I have to say. It means a lot to me.**

 **Now, on to the story! It's a long one.**

"I think we can pull this off." Olivia walked around him, face studious. "If I just walked by you on the street, I'm not sure I would recognize you."

"I don't think I would recognize me, either." Elliot was disguised as Melvin Gardner, Olivia's imaginary great uncle from Florida. He wore a button down shirt and slacks that made him look almost skeletal, along with thick glasses and some makeup to bring out the lines in his face. The biggest change, though, had come from the borrowed cane. As he leaned on it, squinting at himself through glasses, he was amazed by how frail he looked, hunched over like he was. How _elderly._ It occurred to him that this could easily have been his reality if his brain had decided to wake up in 20 years instead of four. _Stop it,_ he ordered himself, determined to control his fears. He turned back to Olivia, forcing a smile. "What do you think, Liv? Would you date old me?"

"Let's work on middle-aged you, first." She smirked at him, and he grinned back at her, feeling like he was floating. "Oh! I know what this is missing."

"You are having entirely too much fun with this!" He called after he as she disappeared down the hallway. He looked over at Noah, caught between exasperation and amusement. "If I didn't love her so much…" How many people would he let dress him up like this? _Probably zero._

"Love her," Noah repeated happily. Elliot froze, staring at the kid nervously.

"No, Noah. No, don't say that, say 'donuts _,_ ' okay?" He couldn't imagine a worse way for Olivia to find out how he felt about her. He had been flirting with her, yes, but for her toddler to be the one to disclose that he was madly in love with her... _Damn it._

"Ellie love her," He giggled, a knowing look in his eye.

"Shit," he muttered, putting a tired hand to his forehead. How was he supposed to explain this to her?

"Shit!" Noah's face split with a wide grin, as if he could tell that he had just hit the word jackpot. "Shit, shit, shit!"

"Um." Elliot turned and saw Olivia, staring at her son with wide eyes.

"Liv," he gasped. "I, uh… _Sorry_."

She shook her head, hiding a bewildered smile. "Just don't acknowledge it, okay?" She turned back to Elliot, pretending that she hadn't heard Noah's new word. At least she didn't know that he was in love with her.

"Shit!" She shut her eyes for a moment before looking back at him.

"So," Elliot met her eyes guiltily, trying to convey an apology. "What did you get?"

"Close your eyes."

He hesitated before doing as he was told, and sat down in the chair by the mirror. The darkness closed in, immediately setting him on edge. Ever since he had gone temporarily blind, he had possessed a keen awareness of how crucial sight was to his mental health. Not seeing was, essentially, not knowing; if you couldn't rely on your own eyes to tell you what was happening, then you really just didn't know. Everything was left up to the imagination. He didn't know how he would have survived it if his sight hadn't returned all those years ago...But his fears melted away as Olivia came to stand close to him; he couldn't think past her coffee scent or the light touch of her hands on his neck. After a few short moments, she told him to open his eyes. As he caught sight of himself in the mirror, he let out a disbelieving laugh.

"You've really outdone yourself, Liv."

"It was a present for Noah," she offered, biting her lip to hold back a smile. "For when he gets older."  
"Is that why it's choking me?" Elliot barked out another laugh as he looked at himself. She had fastened a bowtie around his neck; it was bright yellow and covered in happy, cartoon rubber ducks. Elliot couldn't decide if he looked more like an eccentric old man or an eccentric toddler. As he stared at his own ridiculous reflection, Elliot began to feel like Melvin Gardner could be a lot of fun.

"Sorry," she offered, smoothing a lock of hair behind her ear. He looked up at her with a sudden smile, preparing his best old man voice.

"That's alright, Livvy Love." He watched her eyes shoot up with incredulous laughter, and grinned at her. He had always wanted to call her that, just once, to see how she would respond.

" _El,"_ she bit back a laugh, closing her eyes and shaking her head weakly. "You can't...You can't call me that."

"What was that, Livvy Love?" Elliot tapped his ear, speaking much louder than necessary. "I can't hear you."

She opened her mouth with a smile to say something, but the doorbell rang, interrupting her. "Lucy," she said, getting to her feet. Elliot watched as she seemed to hug Noah a bit closer, preparing to give him over to his babysitter. The sun was sinking low into the sky, and the little man was overcome by yawns. He clung tightly to his mother, not wanting to let go.

"I know," she whispered to him, right by the door. "I love you, too, Noah. I'll be back soon, okay?"

Noah sniffed sadly, but didn't cry. He saw Olivia blink away a tear of her own before opening the door with a cheery smile.

"Lucy! Thanks for coming."

The woman beamed at her. "Thanks for calling, I missed you guys!" She looked like she wanted to take Noah, but Olivia was holding on to him until the very last second.

"My Great Uncle Melvin has been in town, so he's been helping out…" Elliot realized that was his cue, so he got up and shuffled over, doing his best to disguise his eyes in a squint. He had already met her once, as Jordan, so he would just have to pile on the elderly charm and hope she wouldn't notice. He saw Olivia's eyes widen with suppressed laughter as he launched into his old man routine, and he fought his own grin, trying to stay in character.

"Hello!" Elliot shouted in her face. He grabbed her hand and shook it vigorously, startling her. "I'm Melvin!"

"Shit!" Noah giggled.

Olivia struggled for a moment, and swallowed her laughter. "Yes, well...Uncle Melvin and I have to get going." She pressed a loving kiss to Noah's cheek, smoothing his hair with a bit of regret as she handed him over to Lucy. "Call me if you need anything."

Elliot grabbed Olivia's arm as they headed out the door. He offered her up a cheeky smile, and waved goodbye to Lucy with a wobbling hand. Being an old man was actually one of the easiest undercover assignments he had ever had; he didn't have to pretend that his hands didn't shake, and he got to hold onto Olivia if he felt like it. The whole thing just came naturally to him.

"Mel," she hissed to him once they were out in the hallway. "What are you doing?"

He hung on to her elbow obstinately. "Help your elders, Livvy Love." She opened her mouth and then closed it decidedly, letting him go along with it with a smile in her eyes.

"So," she said as they got in the car and drove off, the sun setting in their eyes. "Do you want to tell me why my son is cussing before his second birthday?"

"Not really." She shot a look at him, and Elliot sighed apologetically, shaking his head. "I'm really sorry, Liv, I wasn't thinking." As much as he wished that he hadn't been the one to introduce Noah to cussing, he still thought it was preferable it to having his most private feelings revealed by a toddler.

"It's okay." Olivia's gaze was fixed on the road ahead, and he felt his mouth go dry as he looked at her. Her eyes were flooded with amber sunlight, and she was so beautiful it stole his breath away and made his heart race at the thrill of it. In moments like this, when she caught him off guard, Elliot wondered how she never noticed the effect she had on him. She was the most incredible thing he had ever seen. "Hopefully it'll last about as long as his pancake phase."

He nodded helplessly. "Hopefully."

Darkness closed like a veil over the city, their mood sobering as their minds turned to everything that lay ahead. They were going to go to Olivia's old apartment building; she was going to ask her former neighbors if they remembered anything, and he was going to try to figure out how Lewis had gotten into her place. After that, they were going to visit his former home so that Olivia could talk to Kathy and he could talk to his kids. Glad as he was to be making some steps toward his new life, Elliot would be lying if he said his stomach wasn't knotting unpleasantly. _There was just so much on the line._

A new type of silence, apprehensive and dark, settled over them as they pulled to a stop in front of her building. Elliot stared up at her old home; he had been here so many times over their years as partners, and he hadn't yet stopped thinking of it as hers. They got out of the car, and it suddenly hit him that Lewis had been here. On this street, in this building, _in_ _her home_. Taking a deep breath to quell the fiery anger inside of him, Elliot got out of the car, watching his partner nervously. Olivia afforded him a quick glance, but her laughter had vanished along with the sunshine, leaving her grim and edgy. As they headed inside and up the familiar stairs, Elliot felt himself realize what she was sharing with him; Olivia was never one to show her vulnerability, not even to the few special people she trusted. He knew then that something essential in their relationship had changed since last night, and it felt like a very good thing. He just wanted to be worthy of it. The old stairs creaked under his footsteps, and he felt himself falling back into the heightened state of awareness that he had alway relied on as a detective. His ears strained to catch every sound of life in the old building, his eyes were sharp as they scanned the hallways, and his hand moved to his gun before he remembered that he didn't have one anymore.

"This is it."

He stopped, startled, staring at her door. Apartment 4E. He had looked at this door so many times, and yet tonight it was completely different. It was still the same faded green, it still had the same shiny gold lettering, but it seemed darker, somehow. Darker now that he knew what had happened beyond it, now that somebody else was living there instead of her.

"I'm going to start knocking on some doors," Olivia said, looking around nervously. "Are you good here?"

"Yeah, sure. But it's not like I have a badge to flash anymore, Liv."

She blinked at him. "That's funny, I keep forgetting." Olivia walked quickly over to her old door and rapped sharply on it. After a few moments, an old woman in hair curlers opened the door, holding an incredibly fat cat.

` "Yes?"

"Hi, Mrs. Thompson."

"Olivia, is that you?" She squinted at her from the brightness of the apartment. Olivia stepped into the light, making herself visible.

"Yes, it is...This is Detective Gardner." Olivia said, gesturing to Elliot, who came forward leaning on his cane, finding it a surprisingly welcome respite for his legs. His thighs, his calves, his ankles, his knees...They were all burning and twisting with almost unbelievable pain. How was it possible that a few flights of stairs could do this to him? "I was wondering if he could take a look around your place?" The woman hesitated. "I wouldn't ask, only it's very important that we look for clues. You could save someone's life."

"Oh…" She hefted her cat, Olivia's obvious compassion breaking down her normal walls as she opened the door a bit wider. "I guess that's alright. Come on in, then, dear." Elliot let out a relieved breath, stepping into the old apartment and throwing a look back toward Olivia as the door closed behind them. "Watch your step, Detective. It's a bit of a mess in here…"

As Elliot stumbled into Olivia's old place, standing in what had once been her living room, he found it hard to believe that he was in the same place. It was pretty clear that Mrs. Thompson was a hoarder, and he felt a little sorry for her, living like this. The living room was packed with everything from egg cartons to rotting stuffed animals, countless boxes piled high everywhere. The whole apartment stunk of cabbages, and he couldn't help but wonder what had happened to everything that he had known. How many times had he sat in this room? His eyes wandered toward where Olivia's couch had been, but he saw only a collection of spoons. Mrs. Thompson had buckets and buckets full of them. Elliot realized with something like panic that he couldn't even find the couch.

"Please don't move any of my things," She smiled at him. "But you're welcome to look around…"

He looked up, and nodded as warmly as he could. "Thank you, Ma'am." Moving carefully through the maze of junk, Elliot first checked the door, but he couldn't imagine Lewis picking the heavy deadbolt. He didn't want to scare Olivia, but he realized that unless he could come up with another way in, he would have to ask her who else had had a key. Maybe a neighbor or a boyfriend? Elliot stopped, remembering what she had said about dating Brian Cassidy. Had they been serious enough for him to have a key? He pushed the thought from his head as jealousy reared its ugly head–It wasn't important now. Elliot didn't like Brian, he hadn't ever since he had slept with Olivia all those years ago, but he couldn't see him doing anything stupid enough to put Olivia in danger. _Even if she could do a lot better._

He walked over to the windows, jiggling them a little to no avail. They had always been hard to open, and he knew that Olivia wouldn't leave them unlocked unless she had a damn good reason. He peered out of them, trying to imagine Lewis scaling the tall building with no one noticing. _Not likely._

He had been putting it off, but there were no more windows, so Elliot walked into Olivia's bedroom. _Her old bedroom,_ he reminded himself. All these years, and he had never been inside. Lewis had gotten here before he had. The thought was a knife in the gut, and he strode angrily over to the window, sticking his head out into the summery night air. For a moment, he just closed his eyes and let the gentle breeze wash its calm over him. With a sudden feeling like a head rush, Elliot had an inspiration that stole his breath away.

"Mrs. Thompson?"

"Yes, dear?" She appeared at the doorway.

"Um, this window...I want to go outside and see if I can get in while it's locked. Would you lock me out, and let me back in when I'm done?"  
She nodded dazedly. "Anything to help Olivia."

He smiled at her, and shoved the window open as far as it would go before climbing out onto the fire escape. That at least answered the question of whether or not it was big enough for someone to fit through. Elliot couldn't help but stare up at the sky, at the few twinkling stars that peeked out like diamonds hidden among the depths of blue. It was nothing compared to the clear night sky in the country, he knew, but it still felt like a miracle after so many days inside. It didn't matter that he was in the middle of the city, it didn't matter that the air smelled like cigarettes and cabbages, it was just exhilarating to be out under the open sky. It felt like freedom.

"Ready?" He looked back at Mrs. Thompson and nodded to give her the go-ahead. She shut and locked the window, standing back to wait for him. He looked down the long fire escape, imagining Lewis coming up from the street. He pulled on the window, but it didn't budge. Was there any chance he could have broken and fixed it in the same day? It wouldn't have been that hard to bring supplies, to fix it up to look exactly the same. He wished that CSU could check for glass dust, but as usual he was several years too late. And knowing Lewis, he probably would have just vacuumed afterwards.

He stayed outside as long as he could, trying everything he could possibly think of, the air growing frigid around him. He couldn't find anything suspicious, and eventually he was forced to the conclusion that there was nothing more he could do. Elliot knocked on the window to be let back inside. Was it worth it to ask Olivia who had had access to her apartment? He didn't want to bring up old memories and fear; Lewis was dead, and Olivia didn't even live here anymore...But he knew that it affected her peace of mind, too. However Lewis had gotten in, he had done it with the intention of scaring her. It wasn't just about getting inside; it was about destroying her sense of safety, and giving him a power over her. No wonder she had moved. Elliot had to figure this out.

"Did you find anything, Detective?"

He looked up. "No, I didn't...I don't suppose you ever replaced windows, changed the locks or anything?"

She shook her head. "I never needed to."

"This is a longshot, but when you moved in here, did you ever notice anything strange? Like, I don't know, glass dust on the carpet?"  
She shook her head. "No, Olivia left this place in great shape."

"Oh," he was dismayed. What had made him think he could turn up something CSU and Olivia Benson herself had missed? "There was never anything out of the ordinary?"

"Well...I did find a man's notebook about a year ago, hidden under a floorboard. It was full of the strangest writings. My cat, Trousers, practically choked on it."

His heart skipped a beat. "A man's notebook?"

"Yes, I had to take Trousers to the vet, he wouldn't stop vomiting…"

He attempted to nod sympathetically before jumping back on the topic, heart in his throat. "Do you still have it?"

She furrowed her brow. "I think so...I must have it around here. Maybe it's in the winter pile…"

Elliot watched anxiously as the woman disappeared into the mountains of junk. A man's notebook...It had probably just been a boyfriend's. But why hide it under a floorboard? The more he thought about it, the angrier he got at Brian. Elliot wouldn't have cancelled on her, he would have noticed if she disappeared for two days, for Christ's sakes.

"El–Mel?"

"Olivia," he let out an anxious sigh, weaving back through the maze of things to meet her by the door.

"What's going on?" She looked around her former apartment, a little overwhelmed, like him, by the changes that had taken place.

"Mrs. Thompson said she found a man's notebook, hidden under a floorboard." Shock swept across her face. "Brian didn't keep a journal, did he?"

"Not as far as I know, and we lived together."

 _They had lived together._ That meant...That meant that Brian had had a key. Was there any way he could have been dumb enough to let his guard down, and given Lewis the opportunity to steal it?

"I found it!" Mrs. Thompson called, reappearing beyond a stack of old newspapers and yarn. "Oh, hello, Olivia." She smiled sweetly at her, and handed Elliot the notebook. "I hope this is helpful…"

"I'm sure it will be, thank you…" Somewhere along the road, he had abandoned his old man act, but Mrs. Thompson didn't seem to notice, and Olivia was too preoccupied with the notebook to care. He looked at the thing; it was made of beaten up brown leather, and about the size of his hand. Part of him was a little afraid to open it, but suddenly Olivia had made the decision for him, snatching it out of his hands and opening it. He watched nervously as her face grew quiet, and her breath quickened. She abruptly flung it away from herself with about as much grace as if it were a dead rat, and raced out the door. Elliot offered an apologetic glance to Mrs. Thompson before scooping up the notebook and chasing after her. She was a few steps ahead of him the whole time, and they made it all the way downstairs and outside before she stopped, leaning heavily against a wall. Elliot doubled over, lungs burning painfully, but quickly called her name.

"Liv!" Worry ate away at him. What could have been that bad, to do this to her? " _Liv_." She was hugging herself, eyes far off and fear etching familiar lines in her face. He reached out to touch her arm, and she jerked away from him, sending a knife through his heart. Olivia blinked, coming back to herself, and turned her wide eyes up to his.

"Sorry," she whispered. He wished she would stop apologizing; she had nothing to apologize for.

"Liv." He couldn't understand what was wrong. She looked just like she had last night, when she had told him about Lewis. _Could it be–?_

Olivia shook her head, and gestured toward the notebook. "Read it." Her voice was hoarse with fear, and he opened it, feeling sick to his stomach.

 _Hi, Olivia. Did you miss me?_

"No," he whispered. Her eyes met his, and he saw her answer plain as day. _Yes._ William Lewis had written this. Elliot wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her, but he didn't want to scare her again.

"Keep going," she said in a strange voice, a fearful light in her eyes. "There's more."

 _I figured you would find this someday...Someday when you had "moved on" from me, when you weren't having so many nightmares, when you felt almost_ normal _. But what kind of guy would I be if I let you forget about me? You and I, Olivia, we're not like other people. Our relationship...You can't move on from something that._

 _I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "He's dead. He's gone, none of this is real because he doesn't exist anymore." But, Liv, darling, I do exist. I exist in your mind. I have achieved immortality in the hearts of so many, but I treasure yours more than any. You remember I told you once that death is not something to fear? I still believe that. The truth is, no one really knows what happens after we kick the bucket. For all you know, I'm waiting for you in Hell right now. Isn't that a fun thing to think about?_

 _By this point, you've probably lost your badge. You did murder me, after all. That wasn't very professional of you, was it? I may be a serial killer, but I still have rights. God, I love America...But I think it's for your own good, Olivia. With your PTSD, I don't think Special Victims' Unit was the smartest place for you. Maybe you'll find somewhere safer to satisfy your savior complex. You could work with inner city kids, or maybe in a hospital, although that might be a little difficult from prison. So, while you're rotting away in that hellhole, here are some things to think about:_

 _I know that you're still in love with your ex-partner. Do you have any idea how many times you called out for him while you were unconscious? "El," "Elliot, I need you." It was so insulting, Olivia. Wasn't I good enough for you? Well, I have some news for you, baby doll. Elliot's dead. I killed him._

Elliot looked up at Olivia, heart hammering in his chest. "He did this? What about...What about Kathy? And why–If he had been stalking you all those years, why wait so long to kidnap you? Since when does Lewis control his impulses?"

"I don't know…" Her face was grave, but she had recovered herself from the urgency of her fear, taking the notebook back from him. "And the neighbors didn't see him."

"What? They remembered?"

She nodded. "You argued with Kathy outside."

His breath caught in his throat. "So what the hell is this? No way Kathy was working with Lewis."

She shook her head, fear still burning in her eyes. "Something about this is wrong, El. I don't know what…" She fanned through the pages of writing, and something bright caught her eye. "What–"

Some sixth sense tingled at the base of his skull, and Elliot found himself tackling Olivia behind the wall just as an explosion rocked their ears. _A gunshot,_ he realized dimly. Olivia was already pulling out her gun and requesting backup, jaw set fiercely as she peered around the corner.

"It's an Asian guy, I don't recognize him," she said over her shoulder, voice steady as she returned fire. "And El, he started shooting when I found a bug in the notebook. He's probably been listening to us this whole time. God damn it, he's running." Olivia reached inside her black leather boot and tossed a pistol at him, which he just barely caught before racing after her, leaving his cane behind in the alley.

The street flashed by him as he took off, exhilaration affecting him like a drug as he searched for the man who had stolen four years of his life and so much more. A glint of metal caught his eye, and he dove to the side as a bullet ricocheted off the dumpster beside him.

"N.Y.P.D." Olivia yelled over the top of the dumpster, firing a few bullets in his direction. "Put down your weapon." She ducked as a few shots flew over her head, breathing heavily as she blew a strand of hair out of her face. She looked over at him, and he easily recognized the fierce look in her eye. _Let's get the bastard._

Elliot stood up and took careful aim, the world narrowing down the barrel of his gun, and pulled the trigger. His hands shook, and he cursed as the shot went wide, and the man ran into an old packing building across the street. Olivia came out, throwing him a look that he was just able to read through his ringing ears. _Be careful._

 _I've got your back,_ he nodded at her. His heart was thumping loudly in his chest, and he took in the air like it was a drug. The night closed in around them as they entered the old building, unbearable stillness thick in the air. Dusty old boxes piled high around them, and the two split up, checking behind every corner before advancing into the darkness. After a small eternity, they reached the staircase. Elliot held his breath anxiously, knowing how exposed they would be at the top. He exchanged a look with Olivia, and gave a little nod before climbing it one careful step at a time. He felt his legs tremble underneath him, and his breathing grow more ragged, but it was just background noise, not important enough to warrant his attention. His head popped over the staircase, and he ducked down just in time as he saw the man. His heart leapt into his throat as a bullet shattered the silence, narrowly missing his head.

"N.Y.P.D.," Olivia was next to him, impressively calm as she returned fire. "Drop your weapon."

"Drop yours!" A rough voice shouted back along with the clink of metal. He and Olivia exchanged a glance; he was reloading, this was their chance. Silently, they moved up from the stairs, advancing on him from either end. How many bullets did he have left? Elliot knew he would have to use them carefully. He heard the man pop the chamber back in, and raced around the corner, eyes meeting Olivia's for a brief moment before he shot the man in the foot. "Shit!" The guy dropped his gun, doubling over with pain. Olivia quickly apprehended him, kicking his gun away and handcuffing him.

"You," she said venomously. "Are under arrest for the attempted murder of a police officer. You have the right to remain silent, you have the right to an attorney–"

"I know my rights, bitch."

"Hey," Elliot barked. "Mind your manners." The man tilted his face up at him with a sleazy grin.

"You're still alive, huh, Stabler? Not for long." Olivia stepped on his bad foot, and he let out a yell. "Watch it, bitch!"

"Oh, sorry, was that your foot?" She smirked at him. "Get his gun, El."

"Are you wearing a rubber duck bowtie?" He heard the man call after him as he retrieved the weapon, Olivia searching him. "Hey, sweetheart, buy me a drink first."

Elliot narrowed his eyes at the man as they hauled him back out.

"We're going to have to reschedule with Kathy," Olivia muttered to him as they locked the man in the car. "We have a suspect to interrogate. I was going to wait until after your doctor had cleared you, but I'm not doing this without you, El. You want your old job back?"

He grinned, something important finally clicking into place. "I thought you'd never ask." His whole body was on fire with pain, but he didn't care. Benson and Stabler were back.

 **I know, I know, I just left you with a lot more questions than answers. But stay tuned, and all your questions shall be answered. Until next time :-)**

 **xoxo**


	13. Chapter 13

Um...I think I had a mid-story crisis. So...there's more? I'm so sorry. Don't ever listen to me. Consider this the canon Chapter 13.

* * *

"Well? What do you think?" Olivia was watching him nervously, hoping for some sign of recognition, but he wasn't taking his eyes off of the man in the box. He was Asian, early forties, with hollow cheeks and venomous eyes. They didn't even know his name. And yet…There was something about him. It wasn't any particular feature, or even the way he moved, but something about this man was plucking at an old memory. He couldn't place it. He couldn't place _him._ But he had a feeling it was very, very important.

He looked over at his partner. "I don't know," he said truthfully. "But there's something there, I think…" He let his voice trail off.

"You think he might have been the one to put you in the coma?" She was eager, too eager, but Elliot was nervous. In spite of himself, he was scared, and he felt completely unprepared for this. He wanted to go into the box in a position of power, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this man had some sort of sinister advantage on him.

"I–" The man coughed, and Elliot froze, as if caught in time again. The sound replayed over and over in his head, and suddenly he knew–this was not a figment of his fearful, desperate imagination, but reality. The man who had tried to kill him all those years ago, who had done such irrevocable damage to him and those he loved, was sitting in front of him. His jaw clenched, knuckles whitening, and he felt that his breath was fire. This was the man, but _why?_ Why would a complete stranger work to destroy him?

He looked down at a sudden touch, and all the breath seemed to leave his lungs when he caught sight of his partner. Her eyes begged for understanding, and he needed to give it to her. "It's…" He closed his eyes angrily. "I wasn't sure, until I heard him cough…I don't know why, but that memory…" He looked straight into her eyes, willing himself not to show the fear that was clawing at his gut. "It's him, Liv."

Rage wasn't frequently an emotion he had seen from Olivia Benson over the 12 years they had known each other. But now, seeing the hatred enter her eyes, the blood drain from her face–He couldn't think of another word for it. And rather than being unnerving, it was comforting. If Olivia Benson of all people could share in his worst emotion, perhaps he wasn't so incorrigible, after all.

"Did you know him before?" She asked in a tight voice. "Or was he just a hitman?"

He shook his head. "He almost looks military, but…I swear, I only have the one memory. Though maybe I got knocked on the head too hard, who knows…"

She shook her head. "Don't say that. I know you, Elliot. You're my partner. You, here–" She gestured vaguely at him. "Nothing's missing. Take my word for it."

Her words reached him, and he felt that strange sort of vulnerability that comes when confronted with such unexpected compassion. Her words had touched him in exactly the right way, and she probably had no idea. Just more Olivia Benson intuition, he guessed.

He coughed. "Thanks. So…How do we get him?"

She gnawed on her lip. "We have enough to put him away for good on two attempted murders. But if we want to find out who hired him? What his motives were?" She turned to him, eyes darkening slightly with fear. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

It occurred to him to be offended, to think that she was questioning his abilities as a detective, but he knew that that wasn't it. She wasn't exactly wrong to be worried about him losing his temper in a situation like this. "Are you?" He asked back straightforwardly. Her lips tugged up in a smile, and with a jolt he remembered what they felt like. He dragged his eyes back to hers, thanking his lucky stars that hadn't seemed to notice.

"I don't know, but I'll be damned if I let anyone else do this job, that's for sure."

He couldn't help his grin, then. "I'd say that's about how I feel, too."

She nodded, apparently satisfied, but her good humor faded quickly. "Do we have a strategy, here? I could go in, try to get a feel for the guy, offer him a deal…You could go in and scare the life out of him so I could patch him up…"

They weren't bad ideas, but… "I think we should go in together." She looked up at him. "If nothing else, then for old time's sakes."

Olivia smiled up at him, eyes soft, and he couldn't help but notice how tiny the distance was between them. Where once it had seemed impassable, now…

"Hey!" They both jumped at a sudden shout. The man was banging on the steel table, attempting to be heard. His cool façade had crumble with astonishing suddenness, and now they were confronted with utter violence of temper. "Are you motherfuckers planning on keeping me in here forever? Don't you wanna know who's trying to kill you?"

Olivia sucked in a quick breath. "That's our cue." She took less than a moment to compose herself with impressive speed, and strode confidently into the interrogation room, Elliot on her heels.

"Hello," she smiled pleasantly, sitting down across from him. "I take it you're interested in talking?"

The man looked back and forth between the two of them, and nodded abruptly with an expression like he was about to spit. "That's right. That motherfucker can go and fucking fuck himself–"

They exchanged a glance. When the man was done spewing profanity, he settled his hands on the table and leaned over to smile at Olivia.

"I bet you got a great deal for me, don't you, sweetheart?"

She offered him a brief, cold smile. "It's Sergeant Benson to you, Mr–?"

"Gonzales. Mario Gonzales. You wanna get a drink sometime?"

Elliot knew the man was baiting them, but it nonetheless took a considerable amount of effort not to step forward and slap him across the head. Olivia sighed, feigning sympathy.

"That's going to be rather difficult from inside prison, isn't it?"

Mario grit his teeth. "That's my point. I'm not rotting in prison for that fucker."

"Okay," she said, calmly. "What fucker?"

"I need a deal first. I'm not doing time." _For two attempted murders? What did he expect, to go home and grab a beer?_

Olivia looked loathe to give up the interrogation, but nodded after a while. "I'll get our A.D.A."

"Good," he said, look satisfied. "I just want to get out of here, Game of Thrones is on tonight." Elliot had to hold back an incredulous smile.

When they were outside the interrogation room, Elliot looked confusedly at Olivia. "How exactly are you planning on pleading him out? He's be lucky to get one lifetime in jail instead of two."

She shook her head, and only offered up one word. "Barba."

 _Great,_ he thought to himself, following her and trying not to feel too exasperated. _That's just perfect._

...

Thanks for bearing with me...


	14. Chapter 14

"You're kidding. You want me to let off a man guilty of two attempted murders?" Barba looked at them incredulously, and his eyes found Olivia's. "You're asking me to let a man who just tried to murder you walk out into the world?"

Olivia met his gaze with steel of her own. "I wouldn't ask if it were that simple."

"Isn't it, though?" Barba turned his attention to Elliot. "Tell me you're okay with this. After everything you said about being there for her, this is how you're going to do it? By letting her put herself in danger on your behalf?" The intensity of his disgust was overwhelming.

"Hey," Olivia interrupted. "Elliot and I are in this together. He'd do it for me in a heartbeat; besides, Gonzales was only targeting me because I was with him."

"Really?" Barba asked in disbelief before turning back to Elliot. "You don't think there's even the slightest chance this man might come after her when he gets out?"

Olivia threw her hands up in the air. "How many times do I have to tell you two that I can take care of myself? Mario just wants to go home and watch Game of Thrones. El, tell him."

And then they were both staring at him. Olivia expectantly, Barba looking on in disgusted disbelief, as if all of his worst suspicions were about to be confirmed. Elliot opened his mouth, about to side with his partner and work to secure his own safety as quickly as possible, but he was stopped by a prickle of discomfort. A nagging feeling that he was placing Olivia in harm's way to save his own skin. He looked up, meeting her eyes as she sensed his hesitation.

"El," she said, hurt. "Gonzales is our only link to your attacker." _I need you here_ , she seemed to be saying with her eyes. _You don't get to leave me again._

 _That's not fair_ , he tried to tell her back. _I need you safe._

"Jesus," Barba interrupted their silent conversation, exasperated. "How do the two of you ever get anything done when you're both so busy trying to take the others' bullet?"

Elliot scoffed, irritated. "Can you give us a minute?"

Barba looked at him, incredulous. "This is my office!" They both stared at him with matching expressions about as unyielding as concrete. "Fine! Fine. But I am not letting this man back into the world." Olivia glared at him as he left. When the door closed, she couldn't seem to meet his eyes.

Elliot crossed the space between them in a moment and crouched down in front of her, taking her hand. "Liv." She still wasn't looking at him. "Liv, look at me." When at last she raised her eyes up to meet his, he saw confusion and hurt and betrayal. All because he didn't want to let her get herself killed on his behalf.

He shut his eyes for a brief moment before returning her gaze. "If the positions were reversed, would you let me do this for you? With a kid at home?" She hesitated before looking away, unwilling to answer. "You've always put me first," he said softly. "But I can't let you do this for me. Maybe Gonzales doesn't care whether you live or not...But maybe he does. And I care too much about you to take a risk like that. We have to find another way."

She blew out a slow breath, meeting his eyes again. "I just don't think I could stand losing you again."

He was unable to look away from the reflective, dark brown of her eyes. In this moment, he felt he could see her soul. It was one of those unbelievably rare moments; Olivia, unguarded. It was one of those moments that made him fall in so deep he couldn't imagine ever getting out. He found his voice again. "Then you know how I would feel if I ever lost you. I honestly don't think I could bear it, Liv. I don't think I would survive it."

She blinked at him, confused, eyes shining with a mess of emotion. After a moment, she looked away, breaking the tension with a slight laugh. "Maybe Barba was right about us and bullets."

He smiled gently at her, brushing a tear from her cheek and kissing the top of her head as he got to his feet. "Come on, let's get Barba. If we put our heads together, maybe we can figure something out. A way to save everyone."

He found the lawyer sipping coffee on a bench in the hallway. "Oh, are you done?" His eyes were harsh, but he blinked and sighed after a moment. "Sorry. Long day. But I have an idea that might get you the best of both worlds; you'll have to hurry, though."

Thirty minutes later, they were rushing up the stairs of an apartment complex in East Harlem to the last known address of Mario Gonzales. They were looking for anything incriminating; they would give Gonzales a deal on their attempted murders, get what they needed, and then re-arrest him for something else to make sure he never got out. They easily convinced a neighbor to let them in after Olivia flashed her badge, and saw immediately that the insides of the apartment were strikingly at odds with the outsides. He had hardly expected the door to open without falling off its hinges, but inside were flat-screen TV's, leather recliners, and gaming consoles; Elliot's own place hadn't been so nicely furnished.

"Being a hitman pays," Olivia noted as she began sifting through his mail. He nodded mutely, looking around as he started the search for a gun safe. In the back room, he spotted a computer and logged in, guessing the password on three tries; 'password123.' _Dumbass._

He opened the internet browser, and the computer automatically logged him into Gmail.

"Liv," he called. "Liv, come look at this!" She came into the room as Elliot pored over emails. He could hardly believe what he was seeing–in Mario's account were dozens of exchanges between himself and his customers–dozens of murders arranged and paid for. They even had the records from his account. "He took no precautions at all. We've got him dead to rights on at least fifty murders. What kind of idiot just leaves this stuff open?" He shook his head in disgust, and started to dial CSU.

"Wait a sec," Olivia said suddenly, and took the keyboard. She swiftly typed "Elliot Stabler" into the mail search box, and held her breath as she hit 'enter.' There were four recent emails, and four older ones.

 **Subject: Not dead.**

 **To: dirtywork50**

 **From: anon24798**

He's not dead. I thought you killed him.

…

 **Subject: RE: Not dead.**

 **To: anon24798**

 **From: dirtywork50**

Woah, woah, wait. Who are we talking about, here? I think I'm pretty good at my job.

…

 **Subject: RE: Not dead.**

 **To: dirtywork50**

 **From: anon24798**

Elliot Stabler. I paid you to kill him four years ago, and guess who isn't dead? Elliot Stabler. Either reimburse me the 20k and take both him and his partner out or I will turn you in to the authorities.

You have 48 hours.

…

 **Subject: RE: Not dead.**

 **To: anon24798**

 **From: dirtywork50**

I'll get it done, but I'm keeping the cash. Unless you want me to turn you in, Detective.

...

Detective? Elliot's chest constricted painfully. This was all coming from someone inside the force? He clicked on the older email chain.

...

 **To: dirtywork50**

 **From: anon24798**

 **Subject: A Job**

I have a job offer. Are you interested?

…

 **To: anon24798**

 **From: dirtywork50**

 **Subject: RE: A Job**

Always. Who's the target?

…

 **To: dirtywork50**

 **From: anon24798**

 **Subject: RE: A Job**

Elliot Stabler, detective in the NYPD. Can you meet?

…

 **To: anon24798**

 **From: dirtywork50**

 **Subject: RE: A Job**

Central Park, by the Central Buzz Coffee Cart on the East side, tomorrow at noon. I'll be wearing a blue camo hoodie. Don't be late.

...

"Damn," she said softly. "God damn. Detective? Who the hell is this?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. But you know what? CSU might be able to figure it out. We got this guy, Liv."

"Yeah," she agreed breathlessly. "Yeah, we do."


	15. Chapter 15

Thank you guys so much for 100 followers! Absolutely nuts, I love you all. I don't have a huge chapter for you today, but I wanted to give you something, so here it is. Thanks for reading!

* * *

Elliot watched as Olivia tried to talk the lab tech into getting them the results on Mario Gonzales' email faster than was humanly possible. What she was doing probably bordered on harassment, and he knew there was nothing the poor guy could do, but he couldn't help the faint smile that came over his face as he watched her. It was as though she thought she could force the computer to work faster through the sheer force of her will. Eventually, he pushed to his feet and set a hand on her shoulder.

"Liv," he said softly. "Come on, he'll get it done faster if we give him the chance."

She looked at him, frustrated. "But–"

"Come on," he muttered to her. The lab tech nodded a relieved thank you at him as he led Olivia away, still muttering angrily. They walked a ways through the building before she turned around to face him, eyes wild with anger.

"How can we just do nothing? How can we allow the person who attacked you another single moment of freedom?"

He returned her gaze steadily. "By knowing that he'll never see the light of day again after this. We're in the home stretch, Liv. Now's not the time to get careless. By this time time tomorrow, we'll know everything, and he'll be locked away. We'll never have to worry about him again."

She blinked a little, and her mouth twisted into a painful sort of smile. "Prison can't hold everyone, El." It was barely a whisper, but it hit him like a truck. He put his hands on her shoulders and forced her to meet his eyes.

"It will," he promised. "You hear me, Liv? He's never getting out. I'll make sure of it."

"You can't promise–" She protested.

"I can," he insisted. "And I will. You just have to trust me, Liv. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you ever again."

She blinked at him, and let out a shaky breath before smiling a bit. "I'm more worried about them hurting you." He started to protest, but she looked up at him with warmth in her eyes. "I know, El. I get it. We can wait." She said it like she was trying to convince herself.

He smiled at her. "It's the middle of the night. Do you wanna go home, try to get some sleep?"

She blew out a breath as they started walking together, and shook her head. "No, I'm too wired."

He smirked a little. "Donuts?" She looked at him incredulously, but he pulled her along with a smile, lacing his fingers through hers. "Come on, Liv. It'll be fun."

She looked at him like _seriously?_ Yes, he had horrible timing. But, he was absolutely starving, and Noah's enthusiasm for the sugary treats had truly affected him. Thirty minutes later, they found themselves outside of a neon-lit place downtown that happened to be the only donut shop open at 3 A.M. His eyes widened slightly as they walked inside, but he decided to hope that the food was better than the place's cleanliness. Olivia, miraculously, was still holding his hand. Somehow, neither of them had wanted to let go on the whole way over. It seemed to have fallen into the category of one of the things they just decided not to talk about.

"Welcome to Damned Donuts," the clerk at the counter said with a wide, gold-toothed grin. He sensed Olivia holding back a smile, and he resisted the urge to look over at her.

"Uh, one with sprinkles, please," he placed his order.

"Two chocolate." Yep, he could even hear the smile in her voice, though her face was perfectly stoic. They paid and were handed their order, eventually having to let go of each other as they slid into a booth, facing each other. He took a bite, and paused, his brows knitting. He looked up at his partner, who was mirroring his expression of confusion. The donut was almost...That wasn't right. And that definitely wasn't a sprinkle. Olivia's eyes widened, and he watched her carefully push the food-poisoned donuts as far away as possible. He coughed a little, and followed her lead, trying to rid himself of the disgusting flavor.

"God," she coughed, chugging water. "Nope, definitely not giving that to Noah."

A ridiculous grin split across his face, and he just stared at her with laughing eyes. "Damned Donuts," he cursed.

For a moment they just stared at each other, and suddenly they were laughing. Real, heart-aching laughter that warmed him from the inside out. When they had finished, they sat looking at each other, drinking in each other's company.

"So," she sighed at last, eyes strangely content as they rested on him. "This is pretty ridiculous, huh?"

"What part?" He quickly asked, grinning. "The part where we're waiting on records from the dumbest hitman of all time, or the part where we're sitting in a rat-infested donut shop at 3 A.M.?" He gestured to the squeaking creature across the room, and her eyes widened slightly.

"Um," she said, regaining her composure. "I was thinking more about the fact that it's only been four days since you came back, and here we are. In a rat-infested donut shop at 3 A.M."

He blinked. "It's only been four days?" She nodded. "That's crazy…" She looked at him, and he felt his next words being drawn out of him as if by a spell. "It's just...I spend four years in a coma and I come out of it feeling like no time has passed. I don't have enough memories from that time to account for a single day in the real world, so these four days...they're worth more than all that time put together." He sighed, resting his head in his hands, feeling a deep sense of frustration with time and the way it played with him. "Sorry."

She didn't bother responding to his misplaced apology. "What do you remember?"

His eyes turned up to hers, and then down again. "I have three memories, really. And they're not even real memories, Liv. Like something out of a bad dream. I hardly know what to do with them."

Olivia waited for him to elaborate, so he sighed and tried to put the strangeness of his experience into words.

"The color green," he said, feeling ridiculous. "I don't know why. I just saw green a lot, and by a lot I mean a handful of times."

"Alright," she said after a pause. "What else?"

The next two memories weren't so harmless, but he chose the easier one first. "I just remember feeling really...Like something horrible was happening, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was. I couldn't hold onto it, the feeling I mean, long enough to give it any real thought. But it was like my heart was being torn in half."

"For a while I thought I was in Heaven," he found himself saying. "All I could feel was peace. It was so quiet. Not quiet like you get in the city, just this–" He let out a sigh, not having the words to describe the resounding silence that had filled him so completely for those few brief moments. "Like nothing else existed, just peace. It was all I could feel."  
She blinked at him a little, almost afraid to breathe. "That sounds nice."

He shrugged a little. "It disappeared once I realized something was missing. The whole time, it was just...It was like I was missing something. Like I'd forgotten something...crucial." He sighed at that last word, and smiled a little. "Obviously, I had," he said jokingly.

She smiled sadly at him, and took his hands from across the table, meeting his eyes warmly. "We're gonna be okay, El."

He blinked at her, and smiled back gently. "Yeah. I know."

* * *

This chapter serves as a bit of pause...Just take a breath, hug your partner, because shit is about to go down.


	16. Chapter 16

Elliot stood outside of the hospital, staring up at the brick building for the first time since he had left. _Back again_ , he thought grimly to himself as the noise of the city rushed around him. Today, he would see his doctor. Today, he would learn whether or not he was in any real medical danger. God, he just wanted to get on with his life.

"You okay?" He looked over and realized Olivia was watching him.

"Yeah," he nodded, taking a breath. "Fine." He was fine, he told himself, but he was having serious trouble getting himself to take that first step. He rocked back and forth on his heels, trying to galvanize himself into motion, but everything in him screamed a resounding _no_ at walking back into that building. This place...It was where his nightmares lived.

"Hey," Olivia slipped her hand into his. He startled momentarily, but was having difficulty tearing his eyes away from the building that was suddenly seeming all too real. "Hey, look at me." He managed to unfreeze himself and turn to her. The intense clarity of her brown gaze made him falter. She could see him, him and everything he tried to hide. A second later, she had moved close enough for him to feel her warmth and stood on tiptoe to reach his ear.

"The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can have some fun." She pulled back and winked at him, eyes dancing with a smile. Before he could process what she had just said, she was pulling her stunned partner behind her at a breakneck pace through the building. _Wait–what?_ He found himself suddenly smiling, but the new light inside him faded as he began to notice his surroundings. As fast as Olivia pulled him, it wasn't fast enough to stop the memories from assaulting him at every turn. Here, he had collapsed when his legs had given out under him. Here, he had vomited from the pain. Here, he had been forced to crawl back from the bathroom when he made the mistake of trying to go on his own. Elliot was drowning in it. He became dimly aware that Olivia's last comment had probably been made for his benefit, to help distract him from that pain that lurked in these halls. He was grateful for it, but by the time they finally entered Dr. McAllister's waiting room, he felt like he might collapse in relief. His eyes desperately took in the beige walls and potted plants, forcing himself to notice every tiny difference in an effort to convince himself that he was really safe here. That his coma, his illness, couldn't touch him here. _You're safe_ , he reminded himself forcefully, tightening his hold on Olivia's hand and letting his eyes drift close. _You're safe_. When he opened his eyes again, he felt stronger. Not exactly well, but he had enough of a grip on himself to get on with what needed to be done. He unfroze his legs and moved forward to check in.

"Hi," he said to the receptionist, fishing for his wallet before realizing that he didn't have one anymore. He let his hand fall awkwardly to his side. "Uh, Elliot Stabler. I'm here to see Dr. McAllister."

The woman's eyes widened slightly for a moment before she turned and started tapping on her computer. "12 o'clock?" He nodded. "Fill out these forms while you wait." She pushed a clipboard over the desk, and he took it, going across the room to sit next to Olivia and a shiny potted palm.

He skimmed over the questions, tapping the pen nervously against the paper. He filled in his name, birthday, and height, but left a lot of answers blank. He had no idea how much he weighed, couldn't remember the names of all his medications, and wasn't entirely sure how to answer questions about his quality of life. He did the best he could, but by the time the nurse came to get him, he hadn't even finished a third of the questionnaire.

"Stabler?" Elliot looked up and saw a nurse at the door. He shared an anxious glance with Olivia, who stood with him, and together they followed the nurse into the darker back hallways. She had him stand on a scale, and he nearly fell over from shock. He hadn't weighed so little since–he actually couldn't remember. Surely he had been a child. He made a solemn promise to himself that he would build up his strength again. He would hit the gym and drink disgusting protein shakes, if that's what it took. All he wanted was for things to be normal again, and even something as small as looking like himself was important to him. A moment later, they were shepherded into a little room in the back to wait for the doctor. To wait for the man who would tell him whether the fragmented, confused way he felt was a normal part of recovering from a coma or if something was actually wrong. Elliot had never actually met the man before; when he had woken up, Dr. McAllister had been away for a family emergency. Instead it had been the nurses who helped him through rehabilitation, along with a revolving door of doctors and physical therapists who never stayed long enough for him to remember any individual names.

"El?" He looked up. Olivia was looking at him with pursed lips, the magazine in her lap forgotten. "What do you know about this guy?"

He shrugged. "Not much. He never–" He broke off as the door opened, revealing a middle-aged Indian man with a stern expression and a stethoscope swung around his neck. He smiled in a cursory manner, quickly moving to shake their hands.

"Nice to meet you," he said, settling down onto the stool across from him. He stared hard at Elliot, and he thought how strange this must be for the doctor, who had only ever known him as a near-corpse. "Well, Elliot, it's good to see you up and about. How is your recovery going?"

He glanced at Olivia, and wondered what the doctor would think of his past five days involving a rat-infested donut shop, an attempt on their lives, and learning about his partner's eventful past four years and the life she had made for herself in his absence. Then he remembered that the doctor didn't care about his personal life, and was asking about the details of his health. "Um...Well, walking is...a challenge," _understatement of the century,_ "But I think I'm getting stronger."

Dr. McAllister nodded, and scribbled something in his notes before waiting expectantly for him to continue.

"Uh, my memory isn't perfect. It's...I don't know, like there are pieces missing or something, I don't really know." He shook his head, not knowing how to better explain himself.

"Well, it must be bothering you, or you wouldn't mention it," the man stated matter-of-factly. "Tell me more."

He hesitated. "I mean, I don't know what's normal–it's not like I've ever been in a coma before–" He shook his head, getting his head together. "I don't feel exactly like myself. There are gaps where my memories should be. I forget things more easily."

Dr. McAllister nodded. "How are your emotions? Are they normal, intense, subdued–?"

He had to think about it, and came to an unhappy conclusion. "Kind of volatile, I guess."

"I'm going to ask you a series of questions," he said. "Elliot, what year is it?"

He started to answer that it was 2011, but quickly caught himself. "2015."

Dr. McAllister gave him a sequence of words to remember, asked him to count backwards from 100 by 7's, and quizzed him on random details from his life. His responses were adequate, he hoped, if imperfect. When asked to recall the words, he gave four but blanked on two. The doctor had him stand to check his balance, had him touch his fingers to his nose with his eyes closed, and chucked a random rubber ball at him to test his reflexes. He was asked again what year it was, what the words had been, and then to identify various animals and people. He kept up as best he could, but the process was exhausting. All he wanted was to be told that he was normal, that he had nothing to worry about, and that time would restore him to the strongest version of himself. Eventually, Dr. McAllister told him that they would run some tests, but that this was probably the result of some problem in his temporal lobe.

"It's responsible for memory, emotion, and speech, among other things." He looked closely at Elliot. "Your speech seems intact, which I'll take as a good sign. From your previous brain scans I can tell you that most of the damage was done to the occipital lobe, but that blow may have caused some general inflammation that could account for your problems in memory."

Elliot frowned. "You're telling me that my brain is swollen?"

Dr. McAllister shrugged good-naturedly. "The truth is, Elliot, you left so fast I didn't have a chance to check you out or prescribe the usual regimen of testing and anti-inflammatories. I have to warn you that there's a chance we'll have to re-admit you to finish our typical follow-up procedures, but we really won't know until after your MRI."

He stared blankly, missing a beat. "Re-admit me?" The breath was stuck in his chest. _No. He couldn't go back here. He couldn't._

Dr. McAllister seemed to notice his less-than-eager reaction and was quick to reassure him. "Oh, now, don't worry, Elliot. We'll take good care of you. Let's start with a blood test, huh?" He went to get the nurse, and Elliot looked over at Olivia, trying to hide the panic that was struggling inside him. She met his gaze with more strength than he felt.

"It's not the same, El," she promised in a whisper. There was a flicker in her eyes, a chink in her armor, that made him realize exactly how worried she was. "You're awake, we have to keep you that way."

He nodded, wanting to be strong for her. _He had thought this would all be over._ Olivia didn't need this, _they_ didn't need this, not now. Not when they were so close to getting their lives back. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, fighting the hatefully bitter and overwhelming feeling of unfairness that was crashing down on him in tidal waves.

Dr. McAllister reappeared with the nurse, and he gestured to Olivia. "Could you step out for a minute? Our medical assistant has some questions for you...I'm assuming you're his emergency contact?"

She nodded, but looked back at Elliot, not wanting to leave him.

"It's okay, Liv," he said, voice hoarse, and mustered a confident smile. "It's just for a minute."

Olivia hesitated a second longer, but finally dragged her eyes away from him and agreed to follow the assistant out. He took deep breaths, getting himself together as the nurse started scrubbing his arm vigorously with an alcohol swab. She tied a red band around his arm, and the doctor sat down, observing them.

"Do you normally schedule appointments on Saturdays?" He asked, suddenly confused about the day. The needle slid into his arm, and he felt something strange enter his veins. He furrowed his brow in confusion. "I thought you were drawing blood?"

His vision swam suddenly, and he grabbed onto his chair, struggling to get air. "What are you–" His voice fell away as he looked at the man.

Dr. McAllister's cold eyes smiled at him through the blur. "Relax, Elliot. Just rela-a-a-x."

He opened his mouth in panic, but his mind fled him in that moment, green searing into his vision.

END OF PART ONE

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Thanks for reading! I hope I surprised you! Review for a cookie?

Until next time :)


	17. Chapter 17

What, two chapters in one day? Who even am I? I actually have time, it's a miracle.

I clearly underestimated, again, how much people care about this little story of mine. So, thank you for caring, and please accept this speedy update and my humble apologies for being such an evil little human!

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PART TWO

Olivia tried to pay attention to the medical assistant's questions, but her eyes kept darting back to the closed door that hid Elliot from her sight. She couldn't believe he wasn't out of the woods yet, but she knew that she wouldn't let him face this alone. She had never seen him so scared, and it rattled her. More than she cared to admit.

"Ma'am?" She blinked, and looked back at the red-headed woman. "Your home phone number?"

"Oh," she said, trying to clear her head. "Right." She started to list off the number, but her voice faltered as the door came flying open. Dr. McAllister began barking orders to nurses, and suddenly the office was transformed in a whirlwind of rushing bodies and tense voices. _What the hell?_

She pushed forward, heart in her throat, and jumped back to avoid a crash cart. And then she saw Elliot. Slumped over in his chair, scarcely breathing, his face utterly lifeless. For a moment she couldn't breathe, couldn't think past the way he looked like death–but an instant later she had sprung forward, her cop instincts taking over. She rushed in, despite the objections of the nurses, and watched as Dr. McAllister ripped open his shirt. Buttons went flying, and he stuck an I.V. into her partner's chest.

"Get me two milligrams of adrenaline," he barked. A nurse stepped forward with the medicine. It went in, and– _nothing._ Elliot still wasn't moving. She stared at him in disbelief.

"What the hell happened?" She choked out. "He was gone for two minutes–"

Dr. McAllister turned to her, expression stony. She knew that look. She had seen it a million times; hell, she had even used it. But Olivia refused to believe it. _There was no way._

"His condition was more serious than any of us realized. If I had known how bad the inflammation was–"

She cut him off with an order. "What happened?"

He met her gaze with a look that made her want to crumble. "He left the hospital against medical advice. He pushed through five days of normal activities in an extremely fragile state. The needle was, to his body, a tiny trauma that just pushed him over the edge. Essentially, his body put him back in a coma to try to protect him from further harm."

Her eyes fell to Elliot. She had never seen him so vulnerable, so _frail_ … "It was just a needle," she whispered in a tinny voice that she didn't recognize. She was forced to step back as the paramedics came in, loading her partner of 12 years onto a stretcher and carting him out. She kept pace with them, Dr. McAllister by her side.

"We're going to do an MRI immediately, but my guess is that the inflammation in his brain has reached dangerous levels. We may need to operate."

"I'll sign whatever you want," she said, eyes desperately following Elliot as they pushed him into the test room, the place she couldn't follow. "Just fix him." She turned to the doctor, eyes beseeching. "You have to fix him."

He put a hand on her arm. "I'll do everything in my power, Sergeant. I promise."

As he walked away, a strange thought distracted her from Elliot for a brief moment. She had never told Dr. McAllister her rank, or even that she was a cop. Olivia bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, wracking her brain for a reasonable explanation, finding that she was unable to dismiss this minor discrepancy. Elliot could have told him. Except Elliot had never met the man before today, and even if he had, he wouldn't have known that she had made sergeant. So had he told the doctor when his blood was being drawn, or was she missing something? The thought shook her to her core. Elliot had been alone with Dr. McAllister for exactly two minutes, and now he was back in a coma. In that moment, Olivia knew that she couldn't let this go. It didn't matter if she was wrong. Her partner was lying helpless in a metal tube, about to have his brain cut open, and she would be damned if she didn't do everything in her power to take fate into her own hands. Turning on her heel, she retraced her steps and stormed back into Dr. McAllister's office, eyes sharp as she sought–she didn't know what, exactly. Someone who knew what the hell was going on.

"Can I help you?" It was the redheaded medical assistant again. Olivia scrutinized her while masking her suspicion with very real grief. It wasn't difficult to play the part of the grieving partner when it was all right under the surface.

"Um," she said, voice wavering. "My partner. The paramedics took him, and I…" She broke off tearfully. She was starting to attract a few stares. "Is he going to be okay?"

The woman's face softened. "Oh, honey. I'm sorry, but I don't know. Dr. McAllister will do everything he can, I do know that." Olivia sniffled, nodding. "Can I get you a water or a coffee or something?" Was she imagining things, or did this woman look desperately guilty?

She tried to shake her head. "Oh, you don't have to, I'm–" She closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath. "I'm fine, really."

The woman shook her head, and brought Olivia over to a chair. "I'll be right back," she promised. "It'll just be a minute."

Left alone, Olivia was free to let her teary eyes wander over the entirety of the office. She realized that an Asian girl was shooting nervous glances at her, and when Olivia caught her eyes, her face turned the color of a tomato. Her whole being seized on this detail, and her mind worked furiously to come up with a way of interrogating her. Olivia watched her walk close out of the corner of her eye, and was just about to pounce when the girl thrust a note into her hands. She didn't meet Olivia's eyes, just kept walking stiffly out the door. She jumped up to chase her, but the medical assistant was back with a steaming cup of coffee.

"Here you go," she said as Olivia hid the paper in her fist and accepted the coffee. She attempted to smile gratefully, and listened to the various platitudes as her mind raced ahead of her. Something was definitely going on here. After a minute, she looked up.

"Could you tell me where the bathroom is?" She asked apologetically, gesturing to her face. "I think I've ruined my makeup. I probably look like a raccoon." _Like she gave a damn._ But the woman cheerfully accepted this idea, and pointed down the hallway. With a thank you, Olivia was on her way as quickly as she could, slamming the door shut behind her. With hands made clumsy from desperation, she unfolded the note as rapidly as she could:

 _You should ask for a new doctor._

She sucked in a long breath. Her instincts hadn't been wrong, then. What was this man doing to Elliot? She tore the note into tiny pieces as she considered how best to proceed. If she just confronted him and asked for a new doctor, it was possible he might seriously injure Elliot. If she just took Elliot away from him, pushed him out on a gurney herself, he might die on her untrained hands. No, she couldn't do that. She needed to find the girl who had given her this note and find out what was really going on. She flushed the remnants of the paper down the toilet and turned to the door, before remembering that she was supposed to fix her makeup. She swiped quickly under her eyes with a paper towel and ran out.

Avoiding the woman who had given her coffee, she scanned the office, but didn't see the nurse she was looking for. Trying not to think about what might be happening to Elliot, she rushed out the door and searched the hallways as best she could. Nothing. The hospital was huge, and she was starting to feel helpless, asking random strangers about the nurses in Dr. McAllister's office to no avail. _Where would she be?_ It occurred to Olivia that the nurse was probably hiding from her, worried about the repercussions from her small act of rebellion. So where would she go? On an impulse, she ran to the roof, opening every supply closet and poking her head into various rooms along her way. She took the stairs two at a time, and finally made it to the top of the building. Bitterly cold air blew around her as she squinted through the sunlight, trying to locate the elusive nurse. Her fists curled, eyes crashing closed as she realized that she was alone. Elliot was going to die because she couldn't find the damned nurse.

"Olivia?"

She whirled around, wild-eyed, and the breath went out of her when she saw the nurse. She was young, almost too young to be working, and her dark eyes were pained. "You," Olivia rasped. "Why do I need to ask for a new doctor?"

The girl winced. "I…" Olivia tried to remind herself to be patient. This was probably difficult for the girl, but for God's sakes, she didn't know how long Elliot had.

She stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and looked into her eyes. "Please," Olivia asked quietly. "I need your help. Elliot needs your help."

She blinked, startled. "I guess you've already figured it out, then, haven't you? Dr. McAllister...When your partner came in, Dr. McAllister decided to put him in a medically induced coma to help his brain heal. Only…"

Olivia stared at her, not breathing, so still she probably could have been mistaken for a statue. "Only?" She needed this answer. Needed it so badly it ached with every inch of her heart.

The girl looked down. "When the swelling went down, he didn't ease him off of the medication. He just kept pumping him full of it, for months, and I would ask him why and he would give me some long-winded medical explanation, but I'm in medical school, and what he was saying didn't make any sense, and this went on for years and–" She broke off, taking a break and shaking her head. "Dr. McAllister had a family emergency a few months ago. He had to leave. It was me. I let Elliot wake up, and now Dr. McAllister's going to kill him."

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It's up to Olivia to save Elliot now.

Also, SORRY ABOUT THE CLIFFIE. IT'S JUST WHO I AM. Don't hate me? Thanks for reading xx


	18. Chapter 18

I'm really sorry I've left you guys hanging for so long! It really just couldn't be avoided. But the good news is, I have the rest of the story finished, and will be publishing a chapter a day until I run out. Unless I get hit by a bus ;)

If I've stopped reviewing your story, it's nothing personal, I just haven't had time to read anyone's! I've missed this site and I'm dying to catch up as soon as I have some free time.

So...Here it is! The big confrontation. I'm done agonizing over it. Enjoy :)

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Olivia watched, horrified, as the nurse in front of her dissolved into tears. She felt panic claw at her, but years in the field allowed her to push her emotions down with practiced calm.

"Hey," she said, taking the nurse by her shoulders. "Hey, sweetie, what's your name?"

The girl sniffed, and wiped shakily at her eyes, embarrassed. "Lily." The tremor in her voice was a dead giveaway–this girl was terrified, of McAllister and this hospital and what her small rebellion might cost her. But they'd gone this far, and she knew Elliot didn't have another moment to waste.

"Lily, thank you. You did the right thing. Because of you, Elliot's still alive. But he needs your help one last time." She searched her eyes. "I do, too. Will you do one more thing for us?"

Her hesitation was agony. Olivia searched her eyes, looking for some sign of decision, but saw only the persistent flicker of fear. Finally, Lily closed her eyes, took a shaky breath, and nodded shortly. "Tell me what you need."

She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Thank you," she sighed. She needed an ally here, someone on the inside. "I'm going to call my friend, she's a doctor. Can you wait in the lobby and bring her up?"

"Yeah," Lily agreed, breathless. "What does she look like?"

Olivia told her. "Thank you," she added, before fishing out a card. "If something happens to me, I need you to find my squad and tell them what happened."

"Of course," she said softly, suddenly looking terrified for her, as if it hadn't even occurred to her how dangerous this man truly was. Olivia flashed her a quick, comforting smile before getting the fastest possible directions out of her and racing off. The hallways flashed by, a constant, monotonous blur of white that filled her with a fresh hatred for this place. She dialed Melinda along the way, and quickly explained to her as much as she could, before receiving word that she would be there in less than twenty minutes.

"Thank you," she said to no one, as the line went dead. At last she arrived in front of the exam room doors, room 2008, white and featureless like everything else in this damned hospital. In a sudden rush of empathy, she understood why Elliot had been so afraid to come back here. The place was a prison. But she didn't linger long on that thought, her hand moving to her gun and bringing it close to her body. She kicked the doors open. "N.Y.P.D.," she barked as the two lab techs jumped out of their chairs.

"You can't be in here," one of them stuttered as she flashed them her badge, her eyes scanning the room with something akin to desperation.

 _There._ Her eyes found Dr. McAllister, behind the glass, and then _Elliot_. Lying frail and helpless as a doll. Her heart did a somersault, and she didn't think she was strong enough to do this, but a tiny flash of green brought her back to the world. The doctor was wielding a vial of sickly, poisonous green liquid, and had just attached it to the central line in Elliot's chest, preparing to push it in. Before she knew it, Olivia had rushed the test room, her gun aimed straight at McAllister's heart.

"Drop it," she commanded, voice shaking with fury. "Now, McAllister."

The man's eyes met hers, and she wondered how she had failed to see the ice there before. It was alarming; she knew right away that this man could not be swayed by humanity or any common decency. McAllister sighed as he saw her, irritated. "Kindly point your gun somewhere else, Sergeant."

He wasn't putting the syringe down. He wasn't stepping away. And the way he was holding it, angled slightly towards her so she could see it, his finger tracing the button, a sly smile on his face; it was a threat if she ever saw one. Whatever that liquid was, Olivia couldn't allow him to put it in her partner.

"Dr. McAllister," she repeated in a voice that was as calm as she was furious. "Please step away from Elliot."

His eyes grew colder, his mouth twisted in distaste. "This is a simple tracing agent," he said in a rehearsed, bored monotone. "If I don't conduct the test now, Elliot's life will be in further danger. _Drop your gun._ "

His voice was a threat, every practiced word laced with menace. He was speaking in carefully veiled threats, probably designed to protect him in court someday, which meant that he was planning on getting out of this alive. It also meant, very clearly, that Elliot was his prisoner. So Olivia switched into hostage negotiation mode, into her most vigilant, most observant self. The part of her that only existed to keep the victim alive. She kept her eyes off of Elliot's face, determined to hold her emotions apart, to be only the best for her partner when he needed it most.

She would play the same game the doctor was playing, and hope she didn't take it too far. "I'm requesting a new doctor," she informed him. "You no longer have permission to treat Elliot. Step away from him."

It was such a strange conversation they were having, a face off, each with their own gun pointed at the other's heart. In this case, Olivia's heart happened to be Elliot. Eventually, McAllister scowled. "Oh, cut the crap, Olivia." He stared hard at her. "If you even think about pulling that trigger, I assure you, I'll get my shot in first. So drop your gun," he commanded, voice hard. His thumb tapped meaningfully on the syringe, lightly enough to not push any of the liquid through, but only just. If he applied even a little more pressure, Elliot's life would be over.

Olivia stiffened at the doctor's command. There was little she hated more than surrendering her weapon, defenseless but for her wits and the vague promise of help on the way, with her partner's life on the table. She still had her ankle gun, but she didn't see how she could reach it, not with this man watching her every move, an instant away from ending her partner's life. Hatred blinded her, but the cop inside quickly took over, and she unfroze her fingers one by one, moving slowly and non-threateningly as she set the gun down on the floor and kicked it across the room, taking a little piece of her hope with it.

McAllister stooped to pick it up, and had expertly taken ahold of it before she could blink. Now he held the gun in one hand, admiring it, and her partner's life in the other. A sour smile spreading across his face, he pointed her own gun at her. A memory broke through her focus, of another man and another gun that was supposed to be hers, but she pushed it back quickly.

"You don't have to do this," Olivia said for the millionth time in her life. "You are a respected doctor in this establishment. You could walk out now, we could both forget this ever happened and move on with our lives." _No one has to die._

His gaze was hard. "That's not happening."

She swallowed. So much for that. "What's your plan, then? You must have one. What's your plan for getting out of this building alive after you murder a cop?"

He stared at her blankly, eyes flickering to the door for the briefest moment. "Elliot is a coma patient who left this hospital against medical advice. The autopsy will show that his weakened heart simply couldn't cope with the stress placed on it when he tried to resume normal activities."

"You know that's not going to work," she said, daring to take the tiniest step closer. He tightened his grip on the gun at her movement, eyes flaring with anger at her refusal to stay put. "We have witnesses, McAllister. Records of your correspondence with an assassin. What do you want to bet there are security cameras in here?"

He didn't answer, but she could see the tension growing inside of him. It was only a matter of time before he slipped.

"And what about me?" She challenged, taking a small step forward, hands up. "What will my autopsy show if you shoot me now?"

His jaw hardened, the rage rolling off of him in waves. Suddenly, disturbingly, he smiled. "You are an awful lot like I imagined, Olivia, I must say."

She stopped.

"So fierce. So protective. What would you do, if I killed Elliot right now?" He watched her, a smile playing hatefully on his lips. "What would you think, if I were to tell you the real purpose that Elliot has served me all these years?"

She forgot herself. "What are you talking about?"

McAllister smirked at her. "When I first found Elliot, he was the perfect John Doe. No family, no loved ones…" He flashed a chilling grin at her. "He made the perfect test subject."

She forgot to breathe, realizing too late that he was playing her. Elliot's weakness, his problems in memory —Might they not have been side effects of his coma, but something this man actually did to him?

"What did you to do to him?" Olivia tried not to demand the question, tried to resist the overwhelming rage that was creeping into her veins. Maddeningly, McAllister only smiled.

"But, as I later found out, Elliot here is so much more than a perfect test subject." He looked meaningfully at her. "He's also a man with a lot of enemies. A lot of wealthy enemies, all willing to pay for a piece of him. All willing to make me wealthy, simply by acting as a middle man. And so my little side business was born."

Her breath hitched in her throat. "Your side business—?" She searched him desperately, angrily. "What did you do to my partner?" Her emotions were taking hold of her, much as she tried to stay in charge of them. The pain was demanding her attention.

He stayed silent, but for a glance at the door. "Tell me," she grated out. Hands flexing at her sides, eyes burning into him. "Tell me what you did to him!" She heard herself shout. For all of her efforts at maintaining her calm, she was failing. But she couldn't breathe, not knowing what this man had done to her partner of 12 years.

"Oh," he said, licking his lips with the hint of a sly smile. " _I_ didn't do anything to him. Not much, anyways. I'm afraid my research is confidential. But my customers, on the other hand…"

Olivia thought she was going to kill him. She had only felt rage like this once before in her life, and it had nearly destroyed her. She tried to get herself under control, but McAllister pressed on, enjoying every moment that he used against her.

"$5,000 for an hour alone with him," he said with a smile like a fox. "$10,000 for an organ, $500 for a scar of their choice...People got very creative." His smile soured. "But most of them just wanted him dead."

She was looking at Elliot. Thinking of everything that this monster had done to him, and knowing beyond a doubt that she couldn't allow him to come near him ever again. The fury that boiled in her blood seemed vague and distant under the frozen, lethal hatred that had sharpened her mind to a razor's edge. This man was toying with her, she realized. Playing on her emotions to buy time; but why? What was he waiting for? _His exit out_ , she realized. Someone was going to come through that door and save him, he was counting on it.

"Why do you hate Elliot so much?" She blurted. "You're throwing everything away just to end him."

He blinked at her. "My dear Olivia, this has nothing to do with hate. I'm merely a businessman."

 _And a sadist,_ she was tempted to say.

"I don't believe you," she said instead. "Somebody put Elliot in your hospital in the first place, and I'm betting it was you. You wanted him here, under your care. You knew who he was from the beginning."

There was a flicker of something in his eyes, then. A moment later he had changed topics, raising his voice just a little. "I'm sorry to bring your affair to an end, Sergeant Benson. But Elliot's life is already over, bought and paid for. Much like my plane ticket."

She blinked, shocked.

"Oh, don't look so surprised," he loudly. "No one really believes you two were never...Intimate."

"But we weren't," Olivia argued. She couldn't imagine why it felt so important to argue that point now, but she had spent half her life trying to avoid looking at Elliot the wrong way, and she just couldn't leave it alone. "Why does everyone always assume that neither of us had any self-control or respect for the other? It would have been the end of our partnership, the end of his family. Both of us were adults. We always knew what really mattered."

"I can't say I buy that, Olivia." She spun around, heart hammering. _No._ She had seen her less than a week ago, but could hardly believe her eyes. It was Kathy. A little older, wearing more expensive clothes and pearls, but undeniably the woman her partner had been married to for 25 years. She couldn't believe it, couldn't believe that this woman who had mothered Elliot's children could possibly know this man. But she continued on.

"When Elliot told me he was leaving me for you…" She smiled. "Well, I just stopped buying all that nobility crap."

The venom in her voice was shocking. "Kathy," she said, hurt. "I've never done anything inappropriate with Elliot." _This is absurd._ "And he didn't leave you for me, he just left." She stared at her for a moment. "I can't believe you could—He's your husband," she finished weakly.

"No," she said. Her blue eyes were made of ice and fire. "Dr. McAllister is my husband." She watched the doctor look at her, saw the possessive joy and fiery obsession in his gaze. "Elliot is my ex—my dead ex." She said meaningfully. "Let's get out of here, John."

She remembered how surprised Kathy had seemed when she showed up at her doorstep just days ago. How she had thought Elliot was already dead. "You put in his papers," Olivia realized, moving to block them. "You hired Mario Gonzales. You sent me the badge. And then you got rich off of his suffering. What the hell is wrong with you?" There was still a gun pointed at her, but she couldn't see it anymore, advancing towards the woman who had betrayed the man she had spent half her life loving. "I understand being hurt, but how can condone torture? How can you live with yourself and his sick experiments, knowing that the money that buys your pearls is coming from criminals who mutilated him?" Fury was turning her vision red, but she genuinely didn't understand. This was not the woman she knew.

Kathy blinked at her, and her eyes flickered to McAllister. _She didn't know. She hadn't even heard him earlier; all the last things he said had been for her benefit._

"McAllister _tortured_ him," Olivia urged, voice tumbling out in a rush. "He advertised to criminals for time alone with him. He sold them Elliot's organs. He kept him in a coma and used him like a lab rat, and he's about to murder him. I know you can't be okay with that. I know he hurt you, but you were married for 25 years, you had five kids together, doesn't that count for anything? Doesn't his life mean anything at all to you?"

"Kathy," McAllister interjected, eyes hardening over a flicker of fear. "She's a liar. Don't listen to her."

But, as much as Kathy loathed her, she had a hard time seeing Olivia as a liar. She had simply known her for too long, and hesitation stole for a moment across her face. But then she shook her head. "No. No, you two slept together. When I met John, he told me he was going to make everything better, and he did."

"What about Eli?" She asked. "Are you going to take him with you and this murderer? He's Elliot's son, too." There was a flicker of something like guilt on Kathy's face, and she knew it wasn't true. The fury that flamed inside her was quickly dampened. "Kathy," she said, then. "It doesn't matter what the past is. Walk out of here, now, with McAllister. Leave for wherever you're going and forget about what happened here. I'll take care of everything." Her voice was earnest. She really wanted that, would have happily accepted losing McAllister and Kathy if it just meant she could keep Elliot safe. "You don't have to do this."

"Don't listen to her," McAllister growled. "She wants to keep Elliot forever and lock us away. She's always hated you, been jealous of you. You know what will happen to us if we don't finish the job." Olivia watched Kathy shrink, saw how his words affected her, and suddenly it became clear how much he was controlling her. If there was anything that Olivia knew how to spot, it was an abusive, controlling relationship. And then something occurred to her.

"Kathy. You couldn't have hired Gonzales. Elliot left you on the same day he was attacked."

She flinched. "How do you know?"

McAllister shot an angry look at her. "Everybody shut up. We're running out of time—"

But Olivia wouldn't stop, her mind picking up steam as the idea took hold, the ideas that seemed like a stretch finally clicking into place in her head. "Kathy," She interjected urgently. "I know you're not okay with murder. I know you didn't attack Elliot, you couldn't have had time to plan it. The dates don't make sense. McAllister did everything. And he did it to get to you." It was the _only_ thing that made sense. "He hired Mario Gonzales, he brought him to a dumpster a block away so he could be sure he would be brought to this hospital, and he made the 911 call when he was on duty. He treated Elliot and kept him in a coma for four years. And when you came in, he finally had what he wanted. Don't you see? He stalked us, but we were just pawns. None of this was about us. _You_ were the real target." She turned to the doctor. "We're all just pieces of his plan. The bastard even wrote a notebook pretending to be my abductor. How do you feel about that?" Whatever Kathy was, it wasn't innocent, but Olivia didn't believe for a moment that she was truly capable of this kind of evil.

"Actually," McAllister said with a smile. "Kathy wrote that. Found the court documents and everything. She's a much better writer than I am."

The knowledge was a slap in the face, for both her and Kathy. "It doesn't matter," she insisted, recovering herself. It didn't change anything. "Kathy—We've known each other for years. This whole thing, everything McAllister's done, it's been about you. He's obsessed with you. It's all been about you, and now he wants to finish it. _He wants to kill us._ What are you going to do?"

Elliot's ex wife turned to McAllister, hesitation writing lines across her face. But the man's face was hard. He wasn't even trying to apologize or explain himself. She couldn't seem to find the words.

In that instant, both of them saw the change of heart in Kathy Stabler. Saw the long-ignored pieces that clicked into place, saw the pain that tore across her face as her trust in this man shattered irrevocably. Olivia knew that McAllister saw it, too. She saw him tense, and didn't wait an instant before launching herself at him in desperation, managing to tear the syringe out of his hands before he could push the poison in, and then pain exploded in her stomach. She heard a scream, rushing feet, and the warm sticky feeling that she thought could only be blood. In her head she was screaming. Screaming for Elliot, the love she had never told. Screaming for Noah, the son she loved more than her own life. And, finally, screaming for herself. For the life that she could feel slipping away from her with every beat of her heart.

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A/N: Two chapters left.


	19. Chapter 19

Ehh, who am I kidding. I don't want you guys to kill me. Here it is, one chapter left.

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The first thing she felt was pain. Pain, everywhere. Exploding into her vision, racing through her veins, invading her bones and muscles and tissue. The second thing she realized was that she was alive. _She was alive_. She couldn't quite remember what had happened, and found herself drifting back into sleep, clutching that one bit of knowledge to her chest like a prayer.

 _She was alive._

When she woke up again, things didn't hurt so much. It was dark, and she could finally tolerate opening her eyes. She made out a strange figure in the darkness, and fear struggled under the heavy haze of morphine.

"Liv," it whispered, stepping forward, taking her hand in his. It had blue eyes.

"El," she smiled. "El," her voice mumbled. Her eyes were closing again. She didn't want to leave, she liked this dream.

"Shh," the voice whispered, kissing her forehead. "Get some rest, Liv."

 _Hmm._

The third time was in daylight, and daylight hurt like a bitch. Before she even opened her eyes, she muttered, "Fuck."

There was a funny noise, like restrained laughter, and she forced her eyes open, resisting the urge to moan in pain. She blinked, suddenly.

"Elliot?" His face smiled down at her in the bright, white room. His eyes were hugely blue as they laughed ever so slightly. She tried to sit up, but pain lanced through her. She bit down hard on her tongue, trying not to cry out as he gently helped her back down. "What happened," she said, more of a statement than a question.

He hesitated.

"I won't break," she muttered grouchily. "Just tell me, it'll help me remember."

And so he told her. He told her how she had confronted McAllister, how she had saved his life, but gotten shot. McAllister had hit Kathy and incapacitated her just as her squad had rushed in, hearing the gunshot. Melinda had saved her life, and woken Elliot up. Both McAllister and Kathy were in custody. And Noah, Noah was okay. He was with Lucy, but Elliot was taking over more now that he was recovering.

Hearing it all, Olivia wanted to cry. But, as usual, she didn't. "Did they…Did they tell you?"

But from the look on his face, he already knew. He knew what they had done to them. "I'll get through it," he said, voice strange. "But I might need the name of your therapist," he said with a slight smile.

Her heart was breaking for him. She knew he didn't want pity, but she reached out and took his hand anyways, relieved to find some part of her that didn't hurt. "El," she sighed. "I'm sorry."

He squeezed back. "All of this for Kathy…Turns out they knew each other in high school. Which means I met him, too. How could I not know?"

She tightened her grip on his hand, unable to prevent the tears from seeping out of her eyes. Another tragedy, this one centering around them and their lives. But they would survive, like they always did.

"You gave your life for mine," he said, sitting on the edge of her bed. It occurred to her that she very probably looked like death right about now, but he didn't seem to notice. She wondered if she was a little high, or if the blue of his eyes was really the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She thought it was probably a little bit of both.

"Well, I love you," she mumbled. Nope, definitely high. "Uhhh," she said. "I mean—Drugs." She covered her face with her hands. "Definitely drugs. Just ignore me."

He took her hands in his, bringing them down from her face. She blushed under his gaze. "You should do drugs more often," he whispered, kissing her cheek before getting off the bed and going to the door. "Get some rest, Livvy Love."

 _Livvy Love_. Unable to control herself, she started laughing uncontrollably. She tried to cover her mouth, but she only laughed harder. She could hear Elliot laughing in the next room, and drifted back off to sleep feeling strangely happy and light as a feather.


	20. Chapter 20

Yeah, okay. Posting them all at once. Sue me.

 _Disclaim disclaim disclaim_

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When Olivia woke up, this time for good and off drugs, she didn't remember most of her conversation with Elliot. Just that she had probably embarrassed herself, but she wasn't too concerned. They had to go back through everything that had happened, and she was thrilled to be back at work. The bullet had, miraculously, missed all her major organs, and she was back on her feet in weeks.

Back at work, it was her first act as acting commander of The Special Victims' Unit to officially offer Elliot his job back. Not just the "you work for me now," but the real deal.

"You could take the Sergeant's exam," she smiled. "They're talking about making me a lieutenant."

"Yeah," he said, but for some reason he wasn't saying yes right away. She couldn't understand why he wouldn't want to work with her again-maybe because they wouldn't be equals anymore, she thought without really believing it. But, as it turned out, she didn't have to wait long to find out.

They were walking along the streets of New York one night, having just put Noah in bed with Lucy back at the house. It was wonderfully cold out, the stars spreading above them in a dazzling blanket, the city lights warming every color. They walked side by side, hands just touching, holding their bag of donuts and laughing about something silly.

"Hey," he said, stopping suddenly to turn around. "Do you know where we are?"

She looked around. "Umm…"

"This is where we worked our first case together, remember? With Mitch and O'Connell?"

She looked around. "Wow." It was, unlike them, utterly untouched by time. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed. She hugged her arms to herself against the cold and the years. "I can't believe how far we've come."

"Yeah," he said softly, facing her. The wind reached out to ruffle his now-longer hair, and she thought about repeating the gesture herself. His eyes were bright and full of warmth. She wanted to kiss him. "I can't believe it's taken me this long to get here."

She blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

Elliot stepped one step forward, closing the last of the distance between them, so their bodies were touching. He gave her the chance to move, but she didn't. He studied her eyes with his, and moved his gloved hand slowly to cup her cheek. He smoothed it slowly, and she closed her eyes under his touch.

"El," she breathed, opening her eyes again for the briefest of moments. His eyes were on her lips, and her breath hitched in her throat. His eyes shot up to hers again, waiting, and she realized that he was asking permission. She felt herself flush under his gaze, and realized that she wanted nothing more in that moment than to kiss him. There was no space in between them, and she put a trembling hand on his chest. She felt his arms close around her, and that was all it took.

His lips met hers with a sigh, with a feeling like _finally_ , and the warmth of them spread through her whole body. She pulled him closer, until she could feel every inch of his body on hers, and when she found his tongue something inside of her melted. And then Olivia felt a shift inside of him, felt something more animal and dominant come out of the disciplined man she knew. Elliot pulled her close, crushingly close, not giving her room to think or breathe, just taking and taking from her body in the best way. A tiny noise came out of her throat, and they had to pull away, staring at each other like new people as they fought for breath.

"I'm in love with you," he said simply, eyes desperate, and for a moment she could hardly believe that it was her that had made him so out of breath and that it was her that he loved. "I love you, Olivia."

And then she kissed him again, simply because it was the thing to do. Because she wanted to. Because she could. She kissed his lips, she kissed his face, she caressed his face in her hands, watching him quiver under her touch. She pulled away, watching his face. She wanted to tell him that she loved him too. But she wanted to be sure. "Are you sure you want to do this? Because with you, El, I couldn't have anything less than the real thing. You mean too much to me."

A soft smile touched his lips. The lips that she already missed. "We've spent 12 years together, and you're still the best part of every day. Of course I'm sure, Liv. I want everything, and I want it with you. It's all I want."

She looked at him again, unable to help the slight skepticism in her voice. "You're really sure?" At that, he laughed.

"What do I need to do to convince you, Liv? Do I need to get down on one knee?" He dropped immediately to the ground, looking up at her with a dopey grin. And it was then that she realized he was really in love with her.

"Olivia Benson," he began, eyes shining as he looked at her.

She dropped to her knees, silencing him with a long kiss. "I love you, too, Elliot." She looked for a long time into his eyes. "Always have," she said softly. "Always will."

She thought she was going to cry. "Come on," she said, through a smile so big it hurt. "Let's go home."

They walked home, hand in hand, leaving all the darkness and confusion behind them, ready to take on 2015 and the rest of their lives—together.

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A/N: Hey guys. So, basically, I know this story wasn't perfect, and I know my update times were absolute shit, but I just want to thank you guys anyways for reading and reviewing and sticking with me and reaching out to me all the time. I'm about ready to move on to my own writing, so I probably will be even less present here, but I just wanted to say I'm so happy I got to fangirl (and boy) with you all.

xoxo,

Kattella07


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